Odi et Amo: The Necromancer's Psychomanteum
by XxxChansalarxxX
Summary: While attending Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Taylor Davis discovers her own labyrinthine past, while simultaneously building a relationship with the chaos-seeking Marauders.
1. Chapter 1: Sub Rosa

Disclaimer/Author's Note: This story is a fully edited and refurbished version of my old FanFiction, _Seriously Sirius_. I am taking a great deal of time to put more details into the plot and edit the obnoxious grammar mistakes. I also hope to cut back on consistent repetitive phrases. As a disclaimer, I would like to state: I do not own the Harry Potter series, and I will never match up to J.K. Rowling's originality. With that, I have taken a degree of creative license with the characters and the original storyline. While much remains true to the book, there will be several purposeful changes. Thank you for your support, and please no flames.

Chapter One:

As they stood there, taking in the brisk morning air, bystanders could not help but side-gaze the gawky father-daughter pair. The rugged looking man appeared older than he really was, sporting thick graying facial hair. His loose suede jacket lazily dangled in the cool March breeze like a soundless wind chime. He stared down at a little girl, who was much more interested in examining the claret roses pinned to a small dangerous bushel. Crowds skittered by them. Perhaps they feared the gypsy family would ask them for change. After drawing a quick breath, the man picked up the child.

"The flowers sure are pretty this time of year. Aren't they, Taylor?" He smiled unevenly at her.

"Roses! Right, daddy?" She looked back at them and then at him.

"Red roses like that are good at keeping secrets. The Romans used to say sub rosa." The girl, amused at first, became suddenly disinterested at the history lesson. His weary arctic blue eyes locked on her amber brown garnets. Taylor wondered why they were in such a big city, not that she minded. He pulled her into a tight embrace, and continued walking up the sidewalk. A soft tickling whisper brushed her right ear. "I want you to understand, that I can't stay in England anymore."

His voice was hoarse and rather shaky. The syllables faded in and out, as if he were fighting his internal demons. Her father swallowed with difficulty, but he did not break his pace. With a sigh, he stroked her auburn hair. "And I can't leave you alone without someone to watch you." Taylor, once again confused by his vagueness, watched the sidewalk pass. She closed her eyes, lulled by the rhythm of her carrier's footsteps.

"And my new boss," He paused, knowing she was not really listening. "He wouldn't think it ideal if you were with me." His body shifted to the right, and he gently walked up a stone stoop. They entered a brown bricked, Tudor styled building, with enormous window panes. The walls outside were covered in a thick crawling ivy. Taylor smirked as her imagination flickered with images of evil ivy tentacles trying to ensnare her. All she would need was a stick to fend off such a marvelous adversary.

Photographs lined the walls of the dark hallway; Cheery children danced in rings and played with small animals. Her father had promised that he would get her a puppy to play with. He often left her at home by herself, which got lonely. She could not remember having a mother, and she never got a puppy. The children in the pictures did not look lonely.

"You are going to stay here until you get a new home. But, once I am done with everything I have to do, I promise I'll come back for you." They were standing in a brightly lit office, when he finally placed her down on the ground. A few tears glistened in his eyes. He was lying. Her father would not be coming back.

Taylor shook her head frantically, a heavy realization tugging at her heart. He was leaving for good this time. A silver necklace with a black opal fell into her hand. "This was your grandmother's pendent. Keep it safe for me."

A plump woman with thick brown curls and cokebottle glasses gingerly took Taylor's hand. She smelled strongly of Brussels sprouts and cough syrup.

"No, no, no, no!" Taylor cried. "Don't leave, daddy!" Her father stood up and turned away quickly. The air in the room was frigid. "Please don't leave, I'll listen! Sub rosa! See?! I can listen. Please take me with you!" The woman pulled her through a side door, into a grassy yard. Taylor broke free and stumbled to the fence. Searching the street, she pressed her face to the bars. The necklace became tangled in her little fingers. Holding onto the fence, the girl fell to her knees and began to cry.

* * *

An elm draped shade across the orphanage's small yard. Reading the only book she could get her hands on, _Kidnapped_ by Robert L. Stevenson, Taylor nested at the base of the elegant tree. Conveniently, it had been planted next to the wrought-iron fence, which she kept her eye on for five years. Her eyes danced across the pages, soaking in the eighteenth century Scottish highlands.

While her long wavy hair was pinned neatly to her head by faux gardenia flower clips, her eyes remained brilliantly wild and aggressive. She sat by the orphanage fence waiting for her father to return, though he never made an appearance. No written letters, no phone calls. But Taylor refused to stop making excuses for his delay. Mindlessly, she sucked on the black opal pendant.

A worn cobalt flying disc glided toward her and landed at her feet. A sense of urgency bubbled inside of her chest. _Do I throw it back? Should I bother? _All she could do was look down at it. Freckled Daniel Babio skidded over and grabbed the disc triumphantly. The children in the yard normally ignored Taylor's existence. Daniel refused to be that generous.

"Whatcha doin'?" He put the disc under his armpit.

_Is he blind, stupid, or a genuine arse? _ She wondered.

"Reading one of your books again. Why don't you act like a normal kid? Sometimes you can be so posh." He mocked her high-class air. _A genuine arse._

She glared up at him from the roots. If only she could crawl underneath the tree to get away. Daniel, never liked her, and she never found out his reasoning. The two constantly hated on each other, which made dinner and play uncomfortable for prospective parents. By speaking, Taylor invited Daniel into the chorus of bickering. Creativity flourished, however, as both found new ways to punish their opponent.

"Sod off… before I bloody make you." She snapped. The timid voice had grown stronger out of irritation. He laughed, he always laughed, even when things were not funny. Obligingly, he walked away flaunting his toy as if it were a priceless trophy. Taylor shrugged and turned her attention back to reading her book.

_"Alan," cried I, "what makes ye so good to me? What makes ye care for such a thankless fellow?"_

_"'Deed, and I don't, know" said Alan. "For just precisely what I thought I liked about ye, was that ye never quarrelled: - and now I like ye better!"_

Taylor laughed vocally at Stevenson's irony, but was suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps stopping near the fence. Hopes of her father's warm smile were dashed by the presence of a modest young boy. A lad with a pile of books in his hands, stopped to watch Taylor laugh. She blushed at the attention and pulled herself up against the tree.

Commotion rose from the other half of the yard. It was a mistake for Taylor to turn and look—WHACK! The blue disc, flying at high-speed, hit Taylor on the bridge of her nose. Pain flashed in the backs of her eyes, as the smell of copper filled her nostrils. She held her face, checking for a nosebleed. A speck of blood was all Daniel Babio could draw out of her. In her sudden anger, she jumped to her feet. In her mind, she transformed into Apollo, who tossed the discus which cut off Hyacinth's beautiful head. Unfortunately, she did not cut off Daniel's head. Her throw slanted ethereally in the air, causing it to soar up and land atop the roof. With a huff, Taylor rubbed her nose, but faltered when she noticed there was still a boy on the other side of the fence.

He smiled and in a comforting voice asked, "All right?"

Taken aback, Taylor fumbled and stammered over her words. She was rarely ever acknowledged, especially by the outside world.

Hair loosened from her flower clip. She grinned back at him and regained her composure. "I'm fine." The mysterious boy sat down on pathway, as if he was invited into a lengthy conversation.

"I see you reading here every time I walk by from the library." Taylor cocked her head. _ Am I really that noticeable?_

"Who are you, anyways?" She asked, trying not to sound rude. His smile broadened as he stuck his hand through the iron bars.

"Remus. Remus Lupin." Taylor wondered about her new acquaintance. She had never met a Remus before. Sure Daniels, Toms, Johns, and Jacks were all relatively common. But Remus was unique. _What an odd name._ _Sounds Latin._ She took his hand as not to be rude, giving her name as well. Remus had a strong handshake.

The conversation seemed promising, but was instantly interrupted by Daniel's harpy voice and the nurse's subsequent shriek. A towering antagonist, dressed in white, appeared in front of her. Taylor's eyes flicked to Remus, who stood up cautiously. She waved farewell.

"Cheers." He nodded. Taylor was ushered inside, as Marie Antoinette, to be place on trial for high crimes against the state. _Treason_. What guillotine awaited her in the nurse's office?


	2. Chapter 2: Blood and Chocolate

Chapter Two:

Remus visited his friend beyond the fence every other day, weather and Daniel Babio permitting. Laden with books and other paraphernalia, he fulfilled her craving for elaborate literature. While the barrier bore down upon them like the Berlin Wall, a friendship gradually emerged. A few long talks and an exchange of personal information, allowed the two lonely individuals to become the loyalest of comrades. Daniel, however, lurked in the depth of shadows. He was not about to let years of misery dissipate so easily. The criminal inside of him found offenses to get Taylor in trouble for. Sticking tacks on the nurse's chair, pools of glue in the infants' cribs. Taylor often found herself scrubbing floors and memorizing house rules. She could not afford a good defense lawyer.

Everyday life of the orphanage, however, was avoidable. Ten year olds on good behavior were allowed to leave the property every Saturday. In the spring and summer, most visited parks or the public pool before returning back for their private schooling. Taylor sought her freedom in a different place: Mr. Katsinsky's General Store. Located at the end of Vintage Avenue, the little shop bustled as busy as any Marks and Spencer. There, Mr. Katsinsky himself, fatigued and grey, tossed her a few coins, if she helped him stock the shelves. Last Christmas was when he gave her Stevenson's book and a few chocolates for being diligent in her work.

Keeping an old man company and stocking shelves was easier than scrubbing floors. Occasionally, she would even have the pleasure of running into Remus. Without the fence or adults to hinder their conversation, they explored the expanse of imagination.

"I must confess, Taylor, I have an addiction for Cadbury chocolate." Remus chuckled as he sifted through the candy rack.

"Both Mayan and Aztec royals used chocolate during their religious ceremonies. They drank chocolate. Unsweetened. It was more precious than gold to them." Taylor organized the shelf thoughtlessly and brought the candy to the front.

"Well, it's plenty good. I don't think I will start sacrificing men, women, and children anytime soon though." Mr. Katsinsky hobbled by and patted Remus on the head with his withering hand.

"There's a good lad. Not barbaric like them animals in the rainforests."

Taylor rolled her eyes.

* * *

In late July, while completing her morning chores, Taylor heard the nurse call for her. It was the usual loud and livid squawk emitted by rainforest parrots or haggard old women. Hastily, she put the sponges and the bucket against the wall, and scuttled toward office; the pictures on the way laughed indifferently to her situation. Afraid of another punishment, she flattened her dress. Cleanliness looked more innocent. Once through the door, however, she was shocked to see Remus with a man and woman.

_Oh! Did I get him in trouble? _An "um" was all she could muster. Remus motioned for her to come closer.

"Hello, Taylor. We are Remus's parents." His mother smiled warmly at her. "We've heard a lot about you." _Crap. What have you heard ma'am? That your son runs around town with a poor orphan girl?_

"The Lupins were hoping to adopt you, Taylor." The nurse seemed thrilled at the idea. Getting Daniel or Taylor out of her hair would be a blessing. She may be able to have tacks in her desk again.

Her face flushed and she could not believe her ears. _Adopt? Me?_

"We have an extra room for you." Mr. Lupin explained. "And we can move all of your things, whenever you are ready."

"I've always dreamed of having a little girl. And Remus would love—" Taylor cut Mrs. Lupin off with a rushed hug. The woman smiled down and embraced the girl.

"Oh! Yes! Please!" Taylor felt like Odysseus bound for Ithaca.

* * *

"Aren't you excited?" Remus bounced consistently for the next few days. Her enthusiasm wavered in and out of style. Thoughts lingered to her father, who must be somewhere thinking about her. If she was not by the fence, how could she see him coming? She reasoned with herself. _The Lupins live in town. If my father comes back, he'll find me. All he'd have to do is ask the nurse._

She nodded and smiled back at her ecstatic friend, "Taylor Lupin. Wow, I actually kinda like it."

After the weeks of standard paperwork, the nurse set her free. Daniel Babio watched sourly from behind the fence as the family bundled into a small vehicle.

Walking over the threshold into a new home turned Taylor's insides to hot magma. Self-doubt, pleasure, and anticipation gurgled in her abdomen. She had previously been adopted, though the circumstances were completely irreverent to her current position. A few months with an elderly couple ended in a lot of fuss about missing heirlooms. A few weeks with a family of seven disintegrated into pumpkin pie all over the walls and furniture. She did not appear to have any luck with getting settled into new households.

The Lupins' home was, however, quite pleasant. Small in area, but intimate. Three rooms, a single bathroom, a small kitchen, and a small living room all fit into a narrow two story townhouse. In almost every corner was a houseplant. Oak wood tables and stair banisters shimmered warmly to welcome visitors. _My own room!_ She would not have to worry about Daniel putting dead insects in her sheets anymore.

And yet, an aspect of the house seemed unreal. She barely knew her new parents. _What were their occupations? Where are they from? Why are they so eager to let me into their home? _

Her brother gave her the grand tour, which did not last very long. Like his new sibling, Remus had never had much luck at making friends at the public school. Instinctually, he was eager to show her around to his favorite places, play his favorite games, and talk incessantly. But the goddess Fortuna did not watch over Taylor in the weeks to come. Instead, Invidia crawled in through open windows and whispered darkness into Remus's ears. It became exasperating to watch his beloved parents fawn over the newcomer. He was especially defensive about his mother, who spent copious hours talking to Taylor about the newest fashions and timeless movies.

As Remus's jealousy grew, so too did his impatience for her quirky facts. Taylor was a fathomless pool of historical knowledge. Roman, Mayan, Greek, and Sumerian cultural facts flowed over her tongue with liquid ease. She beat him at board games and analyzed books intensely. Everything Remus excelled in was comparatively dampened when Taylor showed her true ability.

Despite their recent quarrels, the family ate dinner together on a regular basis. Nearly a year of family dinners culminated into one fateful July night.

"Pass the spuds, Taylor?" Remus asked. Taylor pushed the bowl closer to him.

"How was your day at work?" Mrs. Lupin addressed her husband as she cut into the plated lamb.

"It was…" Mr. Lupin trailed off. Since his arrival home that evening, he was distant. He shook off his daze. "I had to deny Greyback's parole today at the hearing. He just did not seem genuinely able to control his actions." Mrs. Lupin touched her husband's arm.

"It's not your fault dear. You did your best—" A fluttering of air landed onto the table. Taylor jumped back, alarmed to see a rusty colored owl on the table, snapping its beak at the mashed potatoes. With a sudden change in character, Remus broke out into a face-splitting grin. He quickly grabbed at the envelope, setting the bird loose into the night. Without hesitation, he ripped the letter open.

_Did everyone not just see the owl that flew in through the window? _Taylor sat erect in her chair.

Her brother read over his glasses. "Dear Mr. Lupin. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" Mrs. Lupin got up and clasped her son to her chest.

"Congratulations Remus! Your father and I are so proud." Remus beamed, but only until another owl, white with brown spots, landed on the back of Taylor's chair. Silence stifled the air. Taylor stood up from her seat and stared at the wise bird, worried the creature would snap at her appendages if she moved to fast. Instead, it nipped off the envelope, stole off a piece of lamb from Remus's plate, and fluttered up the fireplace.

Remus dropped his letter and his body began to shake. "Open it." He whispered darkly. Mrs. Lupin took a step toward Taylor, but paused to look back at her husband. Both appeared genuinely shocked. Taylor picked up the letter and opened it carefully.

"I've been accepted to Hogw—"

"THE BLOODY HELL YOU ARE! YOU NEVER SAID YOU WERE FROM A MAGICAL FAMILY!" Remus roared, immensely upset to see he was bested by his sister again.

"Magic? Witchcraft?" The words felt oddly sane. Only magic could not be real. Magic was reserved for fantasy books and ancient myths. She looked to Remus, who was waiting for her retort. "I am not sure what any of this is." To Remus, her confession was a fierce lie.

He slammed his hands down on the table. The kind oak wood shuttered under his envy. His father, who recovered from the surprise, shot him a serious look laced with chastisement. "I think you need to calm down, sport." Remus clenched his fists, taking his eyes off Taylor.

"I'm going to bed." No one stopped him.

In an hour, Taylor's world buzzed with new truths. The Lupins explained the letter's significance and proved magic real by pulling out their wands. Mr. Lupin levitated the water glasses, while Mrs. Lupin transformed a candlestick into a toad. _I am dreaming. Or I've gone daft._

"You'll go to Hogwarts and learn everything! How to use a wand, how to make potions, and everything about magical creatures." Mrs. Lupin reminisced about her school years. _This is absolutely amazing._ _Why didn't Remus ever tell me?_

Taylor climbed up the stairs, toward her room in disbelief. _Real magic._ It sounded paradoxical. She needed to talk to Remus, and make the situation right. He could not hate her forever. The adventure would be better experienced if they became the dynamic duo again. With a light hand she rapped on his bedroom door. Silence echoed back a response. Inviting herself in, she cracked the door a sliver. The room was humid and warmer than usual, until she noticed the window was open. Remus was gone.

* * *

The Lupins were alerted once Taylor was sure Remus was missing. Together they searched the neighborhood, but he disappeared like ice into fire. With panic heightening, Taylor suggested the group split up.

"We will cover more ground, he can't be too far." She explained hopefully. After gentle coaxing, the Lupins agreed. Mrs. Lupin took the family car, while Mr. Lupin and Taylor traveled on foot.

"Be careful Taylor." Mr. Lupin ordered. The tip of his wand lit up and he ran down the block. Taylor bolted down the opposite way, toward Vintage Avenue.

"Remus!" She called out into the crisp air. _What the Bloody Hell is he thinking?_ "Remus!" Over her shout, Taylor thought she heard another call for Remus. Paranoid, she suddenly felt uncomfortable, alone in the evening air. Moonlight dripped across the sidewalks, broken by tree and lamppost shadows. She silently thanked the full moon for lending aid in her search. A sprint turned to a jog as she stopped to look around Mr. Katsinsky's shop. The store was closed. It was clearly after midnight and there was no trace of her fugitive. Off in the remoteness, she heard a faint scream. A chilling howl followed closely.

Without commonsense, Taylor dashed down an unfamiliar street and straight into an exercise park. She froze at the entrance. A man with canine features barreled down on Remus's fragility. Blood stained the grass and her brother's screams melted into whimpered. The boy was crushed face first into the lawn. The creature's chest was wide and heaving, while his arms and legs nimbly pinned his prey. Talons covered in precious sanguine dug deep into Remus's back.

Taylor did not know what to do. None of her books ever warned her against wolfmen. She tried the first plan that came to mind.

"Hey! Hey!" She whistled as if goading someone's lost Doberman. "Poochie, poochie!" Taylor raised her hands above her head and ran a bit closer, pretending she had no fear. Instead of scaring the wolf away, it became more agitated with bloodlust. Its eyes flashed from crimson red and then back to a sick blue. The creature made a throaty laugh and moved toward Taylor. Taking a step back, realization set in. She was a new and more appealing target. The wolfman would catch her if she ran, and if she yelled for help he would silence her with his jaws. With no time to think, the creature lunged and landed on top of her snarling. Hot drool dripped from its bared fangs. Flecks of spittle landed on her nose and lips.

Taylor yelped and tried to push the animal off. She closed her eyes, ready to be swallowed like Little Red in her Grandmother's cottage. The wolfman opened its jaws to clamp down on her neck. A weight was lifted and the wolfman rolled away from her. Growling and snarling, the beast seemed to wobble blinded. His ears pricked up and he bounded into an arbor. Taylor wiped her face off and rushed to Remus's quivering body. The silver black opal pendant tossed about her neck comfortably. It had saved her life. Remus, however, was almost unrecognizable. His arm was shredded and his navy blue sweater was soaked in a dark liquid. Remus choked back sobs. He was conscious.

"Remus, just hold on." Taylor's eyes brimmed with worry and self-loathing. If she had not gotten an acceptance letter, Remus would have been asleep dreaming of Hogwarts.

* * *

"Number Twelve. Grimmauld Place. London, England." A boy of eleven stumbled through an elaborate archway. "Homier than ever." All the candles in the house were lit to a bright blaze. He did not notice where he dropped his knapsack. It was useless to him anyway. With a groan he slipped off his black rain cloak and collapsed on the couch. A letter with his name embossed upon it, sat propped upon the coffee table. "Hogwarts. Hurrah." He yawned unenthusiastically. Black hair fell into his silver gray eyes, which seemed to empty out into an unknown depth. Sirius had more important qualms on his mind than getting accepted into a school he was practically guaranteed admittance into.

"Stupid mother. Stupid brother. Stupid Elf. Stupid." He listed several names and mixed them sporadically with curse words to form a massive tossed salad of insults. With heavy thoughts he turned and faced the couch. Frustrated, he pulled out the stuffing of the sofa, rightly knowing his mother would beat him later for ruining another _precious_ artifact from the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. Honestly, he did not care. Why should he?

"Aw, Sirius, you're back already? Did it get too dark outside?" A sinister voice mocked him from the stairwell. "I knew you'd come back _sooner_ or later. Though, it would have been grander if the Ministry brought you back to us in a pine box. It would have eased our mother's troubled mind to know you were finally out of the picture." Sirius glared at the couch as if it were to blame.

"Go away Regulus."

"No." He said simply, walking down the stairs. He too displayed black hair and their father's grey eyes. They could easily have passed for twins. Regulus, however, was a year older. He walked into the firelight a bit and smiled wickedly at his brother.

"I suggest you git!" In a swift motion, Sirius snapped off his shoe and chucked it at Regulus, who dodged it as if it was merely a paper ball.

"Tisk. You truly are a troubled young man." He clicked his tongue at him.

"SIRIUS!" A scream from the other room echoed. "WHERE THE HELL IS THAT LITTLE INGRATE!" Sirius sank into the couch a few inches hoping it would hide him. Regulus chuckled and patted him on the head.

"Good luck mate. She's really off her trolley this time." Sirius threw himself off the couch and walked out to see his dear old mother.


	3. Chapter 3: Diagon Alley

Chapter Three

Remus was not the first or last child to be attacked by Fenrir Greyback. The savage werewolf strived to infect the masses with lycanthropy. Children became his primary target. Taylor watched on helplessly as her brother thrashed wildly against his bed restraints. St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries admitted him promptly after the assault, and the healers worked tediously to monitor his condition. There was nothing the staff could do to prevent his metamorphosis. Their only option was to temporarily contain Remus during his first transformation. For weeks, deliria flickered tumultuously behind his eyelids and his skin drowned in waves of sweat. The Lupins watched in horror as their son withered away into a sickly shell of flesh. Thankfully, news of his sickness did not spread far within the magical community.

When Remus was allowed to return home, Taylor remained by his bedside. Controversy circulated about whether or not Remus would be allowed to attend Hogwarts in September. Ministry officials condemned the idea of placing students in jeopardy, simply because a werewolf wanted to learn basic magic. Defensively, the Lupins kept a ready supply of Wolfsbane Potion with them at all times. The potion allowed their son to maintain his consciousness during full moon transformations.

As the adults debated the morality of the issue, Remus remained reserved and soft-spoken. He refused to utter a single word in Taylor's direction. Without just cause, she became his scapegoat. The chasm between them widened deeper than the Mariana Trench. Despite her parents' reassurance, Taylor could not find any solstice to ease her guilty conscience. The pendent around her neck weighed cumbersomely with survivor's remorse. While she survived unscathed, her brother suffered social and physical disaster. Eventually, Remus began to avoid Taylor altogether, and when he was forced into her company he glowered_. I might as well be a castaway on a desert island. Taylor Crusoe on the Island of Despair. _

The headmaster at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, agreed to house Remus despite his medical condition. Provisions would be made to contain Remus during full moons, and the potion's master could eagerly supply Wolfsbane Potion. Otherwise, no one needed to know about the mishap. Remus chewed on the news like a piece of bacon. He would not squander the gift Dumbledore gave him.

With September right around the Gregorian corner, the Lupins were required to gather their supplies. Mr. and Mrs. Lupin escorted their children to Diagon Alley. The cobbled wizarding alley opened into an avenue of storefronts. Taylor watch in amazement as the alley bustled with men and women dressed in flamboyant colors. Cloaks and witches hats decorated every available space. Spicy smells of cinnamon and cider swirled about in the air.

Remus's parents distributed a few sickles, knuts, and galleons to each of them and ushered the children off. Whatever money was left over after the course of the day could go towards buying any additional item they wanted.

"Stay together now. Meet near the Leaky Cauldron in four hours." Mr. Lupin warned. Mrs. Lupin watched nervously as her children disappeared amongst the crowd. After the attack, it was hard to let Remus out of her sight.

Taylor tried to follow her brother, but as the throng of people became thicker she lost sight of him. Deep down she knew he disappeared on purpose. _Now you are stuck here all alone. Enjoy yourself. There is magic here! _She brightened up and observed the stores around her. Eeylops Owl Emporium, Amanuensis Quills, and Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions were the nearest shops. Mentally she memorized her location and continued down the street.

On her own quest, Taylor searched the window fronts for the specifics on her list. She stood cautiously in front of Ollivanders Wand Shop. It was the only wand shop she saw on the street. Hazy gold letters over the door of the shop read _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C_. In the window, a lone wand laid on a faded dusty cushion. She swallowed and pushed the door open. The shop was relatively empty. Behind the cracked old counter she could see thousands of narrow battered boxes containing wands. The boxes piled right up to the ceiling of the tiny shop, and the whole place had a thin layer of dust about it. Taylor stifled back a sneeze.

An ancient man with white hair and pale silver eyes bustled about. He accidently knocked a bunch of boxes off a shelf when he noticed Taylor standing in the center of the room. She ran to help him, picking up the boxes gently and handing them to him.

"Thank you, thank you!" The man sang. His voice was lively and full of unadulterated cheer. Once the boxes were carefully placed back in a haphazard order, he turned to assist her.

"So, you must be Mr. Ollivander." Taylor half-joked.

"Indeed! Your wand hand." Taylor paused in bewilderment.

"Well, I'm a righty if that's what you mean." He grabbed her right arm and instructed her to hold it out straight. He began to take her dimensions with a magical measuring tape, while muttering phrases that did not make sense.

"Let's see, let's see." He hobbled to a row and pulled a black box off the shelf. "Phoenix and Willow 9 ½ inches. A nimble young lady like yourself seems fiery and nimble." He pried open her fingers and pushed it into her hand. Taylor stared at the lifeless stick in her hands. _Well that was simple._ She admired the curvature of the wand. But much to her disappointment, Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of her grasp. "Blast. Wrong."

Taylor was speechless, wondering how this process actually worked. "Holly and Unicorn Hair 11 ¼ inches." He placed it in her hand and eyed her suspiciously. She gave the wand a flick, but nothing happened. "Complex. Very complex. Well dear, I like a good challenge and I haven't lost a customer yet." Mr. Ollivander climbed a ladder and tossed her another wand box. "Kelpie Hair 8 ¾ inches." She shook her head, unsure of what a Kelpie was. The wand felt cold and unappealing. "Maybe…" He closed his eyes deep in thought.

She was about to interrupt him, when he slid down the ladder and hurried into a backroom. He emerged with a narrow mahogany box, much more ornate than the cardboard containers she had seen. He shoved the open box under her nose.

"Holly and Basilisk Scale 12 ½ inches. Very rare, I've never sold one before." Taylor felt intimidated to pick up the wand, it seemed powerful. She picked it up between her thumb and index finger, and instinctually she moved it to her palm. The hilt fit perfectly, and the wand vibrated violently. Sparks flew out of the end and a surge of warmth flooded her organs. She knew it was hers. "Yes! Brilliant!" Mr. Ollivander clapped. He took the case to the register and motioned Taylor toward the counter.

She fingered the wand in her hands. It was smooth and polished, with tendrils curling up the handle. Without hesitation, she paid Mr. Ollivander.

"Mr. Ollivander. If you don't mind my asking, what exactly is a Basilisk?"

The old man's eyes twinkled. "The King of Serpents. His eyes have the power to instantly kill anyone who looks into them." Taylor swallowed and looked down at her wand. She thanked him hollowly.

"Their scales are imperviously armoured like that of a dragon's. Spells just bounce off them." He looked up at the ceiling curiously, tracking dust particles through the air with his pupils.

"How did you get it? The scale, I mean." Taylor fit the wand snuggly into its cavern.

"That's not important my dear. But I am curious to see what great things come from you." Taylor's eyes widened at the compliment. Remus would have died if he heard Mr. Ollivander say that to his estranged adopted sister. "Something wrong?" Mr. Ollivander asked soothingly.

"Nothing sir. Have wonderful day and thank you for all your help." He nodded and disappeared into the back without another word. Taylor thumbed the box as she made her way back onto Diagon Alley.

* * *

"Sirius, don't dawdle." The tall elegant woman snapped. Peacock feathers brought glistening colors to her dull gray hair. They matched her birdlike eyes, aquiline nose, and predatory screech. "I expect you to take down those vile decorations the moment we get home."

"Motorcycles aren't vile, mother." Sirius muttered.

"I will not tolerate muggle posters in my home." Her infuriated demeanor frightened away the peddlers of Knockturn Alley. Dressed in black, Sirius's mother could obliterate anyone foolish enough to cross her. Sirius folded his arms and trudged along, keeping his eye on Regulus.

"I like them." He snapped. Refusing to obey was dangerous, but giving into her malcontent was deadly.

"Don't take that tone with me." Walburga Black growled. Regulus peered into the Borgin and Burkes shop window. The display was elaborately decorated with human skulls, glass eyes, and rusty spiked instruments.

"Mother, can I have a shrunken head to put on my bunk this year?" Regulus asked sweetly.

"Of course you can, darling. Go buy yourself one." Her tone softened from jagged diamond to gelatin. Calmed and composed she handed Sirius a purse of coins. "Go out to Diagon Alley and fetch your things, but come home before nightfall!" She pushed him forward. Pushing was unnecessary, he did not need to be asked twice.

Sirius purposely kicked the old door as he entered Flourish and Blotts Bookseller. "Home before nightfall, Sirius. Buy your books, Sirius. Yeah right. I'll take my sweet damn time." Judging by the stacks of books, he was one step closer to completing his task. Procrastination was an art, and he excelled at it. He pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket: _Standard Book of Spells_, _A History of Magic_, _Magical Theory_, _A_ _Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi… _His list bored him. It was doubtful that he would be spending much time reading them anyway. Hogwarts hosted wicked Quidditch matches and forbidden secrets ripe for the unraveling.

Noticing the rows were situated alphabetically, Sirius slipped behind a bookcase labeled "A" and searched for _A History of Magic_. "What a boring topic: History of Magic." A boy with hazel eyes and jet black hair slinked into the aisle. The stranger, who looked about Sirius's age, plucked a random book from the shelf nonchalantly. _Look at this wanker. Showing off like he knows what he's reading. _Licking his finger, the boy flipped through the pages. Sirius grabbed an available copy of _A History of Magic. _Opening to the middle, he brought his nose to the book's spine, examining the authenticity of the paper. An awkward stillness ensued, which caused Sirius to look up at the other boy.

"Your face looks better hidden behind a book mate." The boy snorted playfully. Snakes hissed inside Sirius's stomach, gnawing to escape.

"Shove off git." Sirius replied irritated. _Who does he think he is?_ Anger forced Sirius to rip out a page from the book he was holding.

"Bit tempered are we?"

"I said shove off!" Sirius shouted moving to another aisle. The troublemaker did not follow him. Like an archaeologist, he scuttled into a tomb. A shrine of bound paperbacks rose upon either side of him. One by one he balanced the books in his arms, until his collection was complete. On his way to the register, however, Sirius tripped face first to the plush carpeted floor. Looking back he saw the outstretched boot of his newest enemy. The obnoxious boy walked around him and picked up his books.

"Thanks for finding my books mate." As he turned to walk off, Sirius grabbed the boy's ankles and pulled him down to the floor.

"Get your own books you skanky plonker." Rolling from side to side, in a struggle to get up, the boys crashed into a tower of volumes. An avalanche of grimoires fell upon the two fighters, bruising the crowns of their skulls. Unfazed, the boys grasped at each other, pounding their fists mercilessly into their opponent's shoulder.

"Get off me you nutter!" Yelled Sirius.

"Look at the mess you're making, bampot!"

Unwilling to lose the fight, Sirius spat in the boy's face just as his attacker lifted a book to swat him over the head with. The black haired boy recoiled wiping his face off.

"You dirty cheat! Spitting in my eye! Damn it." Rubbing his eye, the stranger stood up, and walked over to help Sirius to his feet. "I like you though. Smart moves there." Customers had stopped to stare at the pair of miscreants. Sirius wiped some blood from his cut lip and laughed at the scene they had caused. The fight lifted his spirits. _Is this bloke serious?_ Once on his feet, Sirius held out his hand in a friendly way. A fellow so bold at least earned his respect.

"I'm Sirius Black." The boy took his hand firmly and shook it.

With a smirk, the boy replied. "James Potter."


	4. Chapter 4: Folio Bruti

Chapter Four:

Gradually each item on Taylor's supply list was victimized by an impending check mark. Her knapsack bulged with books, quills, and robes. Much to her surprise, the pack was surprisingly light. Magic disregarded the laws of gravity and physics. Wandering in a random direction, she discovered Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment. _Brass_ _scales and a cauldron. The last items on my list. This seems promising. If I have any coins left over, I can take a look at some magical creatures. Owls are intriguing creatures. The Goddess Athena loved her owls, so they surely must be nature's wisest beings. _Lost in the corners of her Grecian daydream, she knocked shoulders with a girl heading out of Wiseacre's.

"I'm so sorry!" The girl apologized, red hair falling into her green eyes. A pale boy with greasy black hair and black eyes slipped off to the side, annoyed by Taylor's ineptitude.

"No, no. Totally my fault." Taylor admitted with a little laugh. The girls smiled at each other, and as Taylor turned to enter the building, the redhead called out to her.

"Excuse me, do you happen to know where we can get our wands? We can't seem to find the wand shop anywhere."

Taking a step back down onto the street, Taylor pointed southward. "Sure. It's just a few shops down on the left. Mr. Ollivanders." She smiled warmly at the pair. "You can't miss it."

"Thanks so much. You have no idea how overwhelming this place is for me. I never even knew magic existed before my acceptance letter." Wild energy beamed from the girl's bright smile.

"Same here." Taylor's heart lifted upon a cloud of air. The girl's friendliness was contagious. It was also comforting to know that she was not the only one who was uninformed. "I'm sure we'll get the hang of it sometime though. What's your name?"

"Lily Evans." She reached up and shook Taylor's hand. "And this is my friend Severus." The boy made no motion to move forward.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Lily. And you too Severus." Taylor adjusted her backpack. She balanced on an awkward limb and asked, "If you two aren't busy after wand shopping, do you want to meet up for some ice cream at Florean Fortescue's?"

"Sure!" Lily knew no hesitation. Severus disappeared within himself.

"Okay! I'll meet you outside Eeylops Owl Emporium whenever you're done?" Lily hesitated and her expression turned to sour milk. Taylor's breath caught in her chest. _Did I say something wrong?_

"Be careful at the Emporium." Lily warned. Taylor exhaled. "The toe-rag troublemakers are up to a nasty sort of trouble." Taylor's confusion expanded Lily's explanation further. "Potter and his pikey friends! Switching prices and antagonizing that poor old man's owls! Eeylop will be rearranging his stocks for weeks because of them!"

"Potter?" The name did not seem that intimidating. Ceramics after all were fragile.

"The terror four! James Potter and his new best mate Sirius Black are posh pureblood muppets! Peter and that Remus are no better." Taylor stood paralyzed by words.

"Remus Lupin?" The words burned like hot acid. Lily nodded dramatically.

Severus broke his vow of silence. "So you HAVE heard of them? It is impressive how quickly their reputations spread."

"You'll know if you see them." Lily spat as if she tasted bleach. "Potter is always messing with his hair and Black has that nasty sense of entitlement." _Remus with troublemakers?_ _That's not possible._

* * *

Taking Lily's advice, Taylor decided to visit the Magical Menagerie in lieu of the nearby Owl Emporium. Once inside, her wildest imaginations were answered. The shop was cramped with cacophony. The walls were covered with aquariums, ornate cages, and tonics. Animals chattered about, desperate for Taylor's attention.

Cats of every color and pattern groomed their fur coats. Giant orange snails with poisonous black spikes slowly digested the walls of their aquariums. Glossy gray blue rats chased their tails, while owls watched them hungrily. Taylor curiously peered into a cage labeled "Clabbert: Do not touch!" Hidden behind leaves, a soft red light shimmered eerily. A webbed hand pushed leaves out of the way, revealing an inquisitive froglike chimpanzee creature. A bulbous pustule at the top of its head flickered. Razor sharp teeth gleamed viciously in an intimidating manner. Taylor stepped back from the cage and moved along, admiring the normalcy of the ravens and toads.

A bell on the door rang, announcing the store's newest arrival. While studying the owls, Taylor did not notice Sirius dodge into her aisle. A snowy owl ruffled defensively as he tapped upon the cage. Gently, Taylor poked her finger through a cage and stroked a barn owl's underbelly. Noticing the quiet girl, Sirius silently vowed himself to tomfoolery. Nonchalantly, he approached his victim, took hold of her hair and yanked on it playfully. She yipped, creating a caucus of animal shrieks.

"Whatcha looking at there, duckie?" He chuckled, amused at her yelp. A store clerk hollered a warning to the pair, simultaneously trying to calm the animals. Taylor whirled around to face her tormentor. Their eyes locked. Even as her fierce gaze hardened, he did not flinch under it. _Figures. I wonder which pest I have the pleasure of meeting. _She turned around and ignored him. A sponge for attention, Sirius pushed passed the proper threshold. He lifted her skirt obnoxiously.

Surprised, Taylor turned and smacked him across the face. Sirius took a step back and held his face, but snorted at her aggressive demeanor.

"Leave me alone!" Taylor hissed. Sirius rolled his eyes at her dismissal. He pushed passed her and switched the price tag of a tawny owl with a blue dart frog. _Well, a sense of entitlement and he hasn't touched his hair. It must be Sirius Black_.

"Stop that." She warned. A haggard employee saw the mischief and hurried over.

"Get out!" He shouted at both Taylor and Sirius. Irritated, he reorganized the prices. Taylor opened her mouth to protest her innocence, but his pointer finger toward the door spoke firmly. _I am sure Cicero did not have such issues when he spoke in the forum. _She sulked out of the store with Sirius close behind her. His hands danced deeply in his pockets.

"You think you're really funny, don't you Mr. Black?" He lifted his hands in a shrug and smiled.

"I don't know what I am. But I know I am having a good time." Sirius was surprised she knew his name. She fumed and walked away without another word. He watched her disappear toward the ice cream parlor. He twisted on his heel and walked down the street, whistling proudly to himself.

* * *

Mrs. Lupin worked diligently on a departure dinner. The smell of maple glazed ham permeated the air joyously. Robes, books, quills, parchment were packed neatly into a red secondhand suitcase. Inspecting the luggage, the contents did not seem like that much, but it was Taylor's new life. Like any competent witch or wizard, her wand remained safely by her side. She daydreamed about making new friends and learning spells. Lily promised to save a seat for her on tomorrow's train. _I wonder if the Hogwarts Express runs on magic._

Taylor walked out of her room. With anticipation, she peeked inside Remus's room to see him already reading an assigned book.

"Remus?"

He did not reply. She rapped on the door frame politely. All hopes were dashed of talking to him about their new friendships. He got up and slammed the door shut, refusing to make eye contact.


	5. Chapter 5: The Hogwarts Express

On September first, King's Cross Station bustled with daily activity. Time challenged each traveler to reach their platform before the train departed. The Lupins weaved through muggle crowds, pushing a heavy cart stacked with suitcases. The Hogwarts Express left at exactly eleven o'clock. Father Time hastened the second hand into a forced march, and Taylor watched his scythe uncomfortably point out quarter to the hour. The family was stopped suddenly by an old man in a black wizarding robe.

"Excuse me. Mr. and Mrs. Lupin?" The man intercepted the party. "My name is Newton Scamander. I am with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Before Remus boards the Hogwarts Express, the ministry has to debrief a few minor policies. If you come with me, this won't take much time." Remus's parents nodded hurriedly. Mr. Scamander gestured to Taylor. "Your daughter, however, may proceed to the platform."

Mrs. Lupin looked at Taylor with uncertainty. "Be careful darling. And find your brother as soon as the train begins moving. Okay?" She kissed her daughter goodbye, and Taylor hurried off. Worry about Remus's session with the Ministry twisted into immediate concern for direction. _Platform nine and three quarters. What a peculiar train station._

Perplexity overwhelmed her as she circled between platforms nine and ten. She checked her ticket several times, but remained clueless.

"There is nothing here." She muttered, pacing back and forth between the two platforms. _Maybe this all has been some elaborate joke. I'll turn around and see a television game show host. Tell us Taylor? How does it feel to go from orphan to almost witch? _ "Platform 9¾! Nice touch. Very funny!" Slimy sarcasm was bitter.

"It's not _that_ funny." A sly voice commented. Taylor whirled around to see two boys leaning on their carts. One sported a tussle of messy hair, while the other she's wish to forget.

"Stay away from me, Black." She growled. Sirius looked at her for a second longer than he needed to. She felt his eyes sizing her up and judging her capabilities.

"How is it that you know my name and I've yet to find out yours?" She turned around and continued walking. _Anywhere is better than here. I'd rather hang myself by my own entrails._

"Where are you going?" He called after her tauntingly. Taylor disregarded his quandary. "Just some friendly advice, this _is_ the platform." She turned in time to witness Sirius and his friend disappear into the hard brick wall. _It's a trick! Some nasty trick!_

Another, hurried wizard did the same. Rubbing her eyes she paused and thought the possibilities over. _What if I can't get through? What if I run into the wall? _Trepidation aside, she griped the handle of her cart like it was the bar of a hang glider. Eyes closed and head ducked, she ran toward the wall separating the platforms. She opened her eyes. A single hidden platform unfolded before her. Loved ones said farewell to little ones as they boarded a red and black steam engine. Memory ushered Taylor to touch the opal around her neck, missing her own loved one.

Taylor took a moment to study the train, and broke into a grin when she caught sight of Lily. From a compartment window, she waved frantically. Boarding the train was easy enough, as most students had already claimed their seats. Lily helped Taylor lift her trunk into the over head storage area. Excitement thrashed wildly in Taylor's stomach, primarily because she had never been on a train before. She smiled at her friend as she sat down.

"It's so nice to see you again Lily." Lily ran her fingers through her hair.

"I am so happy to have you here. I was starting to worry that I'd be sitting alone."

"Where's Severus?" Taylor asked innocently. Lily shrugged.

"He met some boys once we got to the station. A strange crowd. I wasn't sure I felt too comfortable, so I told him I'd meet up with him sometime later." She leaned in closer to her friend."Is it true?" She paused for dramatic effect. "You smacked him?" Taylor raised eyebrows in apprehension.

"Who? Black? I did. He lifted my skir—" The discussion sputtered into a mess on the compartment floor. The door slid open, allowing the conversation's prime subject to enter the lounge. Sirius too ended his banter with the two boys following him, when he noticed Taylor's aggravated stare.

"Well, isn't this just coincidental. Our third encounter, now?" Taylor folded her arms. Acknowledgement gave his fire fodder.

"I suggest you leave." Lily barked. The train began to roll out of the station. The rumble almost gave an edge to Lily's command.

"Last time I checked, we could sit anywhere we wanted to on this train." James reminded them from behind Sirius. "Besides, all the other seats are taken."

"That's pretty convenient." Lily's patience was wearing thin. James cocked his head at Lily who shivered in disgust under his lustful eye. Then as if invited, they piled into the cab. Remus filed in last, and did not look pleased at the current situation. Taylor sighed and looked out the window. After a moment of awkward silence, she turned to Lily.

"How long is this trip usually?" She asked.

"My brother says it's typically a few hours" Sirius interjected himself.

"DID I ASK YOU?" Taylor snarled. Interested by her outburst, James looked at Taylor for a moment and then picked his feet up to rest them on the available seat. Sirius followed suit, which caused the compartment to feel internally constricted.

For nearly an hour, the travelers remained in a silent peace. It could have been the next great Pax Romana. Remus skimmed _A History of Magic_, while James flipped through his expansive collection of Chocolate Frog cards. Sirius yawned and occasionally closed his eyes to nap. Suddenly, the door slid open revealing a thin lady pulling a cart.

"Anything off the trolley dears?" She asked merrily.

The trolley overflowed with sweets Taylor had never heard of before. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Cauldron Cakes, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Licorice Wands, Chocolate Frogs, and Jelly Slugs. Taylor glimpsed at Lily, who looked as intrigued. Remembering her leftover change, she reached into her pockets for several sickles and knuts.

"Could I please have two Chocolate Frogs, two flasks of Pumpkin Juice, and one container of Bertie Botts?" The woman obliged her. Taylor tossed a pentagonal Chocolate Frog and heavy flask to Lily, who thanked her warmly.

"You're amazing." Lily cracked open her Chocolate Frog and squealed when it jumped to life. Taylor nearly lost hers as it tried to escape back onto the trolley. James ordered a ton of stuff from the lot, for himself and his troupe. Remus merely stared at the offering, as if counting the calories. Sirius winked at James.

"Why thank you James!" He took a bite of Cauldron Cake. "You sure are generous, isn't he Lily?" Lily nearly threw up her pumpkin juice, when Sirius's tongue rolled over her name. "Anyway," Sirius continued, ignoring Lily's lack of reply. "I still haven't had the pleasure of learning your name." His foot kicked at Taylor's coyly.

"I swear the next time you talk to me or touch me, I'm going to shove boogie beans up your nose." Taylor threatened. Sirius relinquished. The train trekked on, and the snacks grew lower. Despite their uninvited guests, she was inspired by the simplest acts of everyday magical life.

"We better get in our cloaks, Lily." Taylor suggested later on in the trip, just as a light rain began to fall outside.

"Need help?" James asked, with a humorous smirk pasted to his face. Both girls gave him a look of disgust and walked out to find their uniforms.


	6. Chapter 6: The Sorting Ceremony

Silhouetted mountains grew like anthills on the passing landscape. Sirius pressed his head against the cool refreshing glass. If only the train ride could last forever, Sirius wished naively. Chocolate Frogs for breakfast, Pumpkin Pasties for lunch, and Cauldron Cakes for dinner. He could surround himself with good company, and have a few laughs. Hogwarts surely could not compare to the compartment's satin interior and soft cushions. He dreaded the train's arrival, and the consequential sorting ceremony. James ruffled up his hair and looked at his reflection in the glass window.

"Do I look alright, mate?" Running a hand through his hair again, his voice wavered with insecurity.

Sirius clapped his hands together and assumed the role of a fawning grandmother. "Oh you look absolutely lovely today Jamie!" He sank back into his seat; with his energy lost, he exuded a sour composure.

"What's wrong?"

"There is a strong possibility that I'm going to be brutally murdered tonight in my sleep."

"I'm not sure I follow?" James fondled the snack wrappers.

"My whole family has been in Slytherin for generations. I am nothing like them. I hate their sneaky backward ways. My brother Regulus will probably welcome me to the house with painful hexes. Where will I hide? I might as well be a lamb in a den of gytrash."

"Just because your family has been sorted into Slytherin doesn't mean that you will be." Remus spoke up.

"OI! Remus speaks! Where were you all this time? Deep in that large brain of yours, plotting our demise?" James mocked.

"Absolutely." Remus retorted casually. He did not want to admit that his silence was a direct result of Taylor's presence. His confession would lead to deeper truths. The train slowed to a stop, just as Lily and Taylor settled back down into their seats. James looked at them, and attempted to have a civil conversation.

"So, what house do you girls think you'll get sorted into?"

Lily answered first. "I don't care as long as it's as far as possible from you three!" Taylor smiled at her friend's ferocity.

"Well, I am hoping for Gryffindor." James admitted.

"Then I'll have to rival you with Slytherin." Lily combated him verbally. Taylor was not sure of the differences, so remained silent during the discussion. _What exactly is a sorting anyway?_

"I'll be in Slytherin. My whole family's been sorted into that house. So chances of me getting into any other are slim to none." Sirius lounged in the seat waiting for the train to completely stop. Remus grunted a noise which clearly implied: _No one listens to me_. Lily strategically switched her house choice to Hufflepuff.

* * *

Taylor removed her luggage from the overhead compartment, and jumped off the train. The crisp evening air was refreshing after a stifling journey. A coarse elderly man with broad shoulders and dark gray hair hobbled forward. He was covered in fox and rabbit hides, and his face was scarred and bruised.

"Welcome first years! Follow me this way."

Lily pulled Taylor along, trying to lose James, Sirius, and Remus. Successfully, the girls skittered to the front of the group, near their aged guide. The platform disappeared, along with all signs of manmade objects. Trees towered over them, only to be replaced by a glistening lake.

A seven-story high medieval castle perched scenically upon a regal cliff side overlooking a black lake. Towers and turrets stretched toward the sky and complimented the surrounding mountainous landscape. Taylor stood in awe for a moment, until Lily dragged her by the arm into a small boat. She sat down, her eyes glued to the castle that stood grandly in the distance. Lights flickered from the windows like embers in a dying fire. The boat wobbled unexpectedly as James and Sirius settled on a wooden bench.

"Boody Hell! Are you two stalking us?" Unconsciously, Taylor reached for her wand underneath her robes. Having her wand so close gave her comfort. The boys ignored the question, and mystically the boats pushed off from the shore. The gamekeeper blew a whistle and the vessels drew closer to create a fleet. The ripples in the black water danced playfully around the dinghy, disrupting the glitter of the third quarter moon upon the surface.

James whispered to Sirius and the duo began to roar with laughter. The boat rocked and groaned under their stamping feet. Lily stood up and faced them.

"Can you two please act like adults?" The boat generously leaned starboard, throwing Lily off balance. She struggled to regain her equilibrium, whirling her arms about like an out of sync windmill. Heroically, James jumped up to help Lily, but too failed to find his sailor legs. Before catastrophe could claim her friend, Taylor quickly grabbed Lily's hand and pulled her down to the wooden bench. The two girls prayed that the boat would not capsize. James repositioned himself and fell down into his seat. He held onto the edge of the boat, slightly seasick from his quest. With miraculous recovery, the queasiness in his stomach disappeared, and he rapidly put his hands in his lap, edging away from the edge of the boat.

"Everything alright?' Sirius asked, noticing James's uneasiness.

"I just saw an eye the size of my head looking back at me."

"You're joking." Sirius looked over the edge. A giant pink squid drifted along with the fleet of boats. Intrigued, Sirius reached into the water and touched the tender slick skin of a nearby tentacle.

"You're bonkers, mate." James shuddered.

* * *

The boats took shore inside an internal docking area. Everyone piled out mumbling to their friends and acquaintances. A tall witch in fern-green robes entered the room. Her emerald eyes scanned the crowd of first years from under her ceremonial hat.

"Quiet down!" She commanded firmly. "The sorting will begin momentarily. Please remain cordial throughout the procession and mind your voices while others are being sorted." When she was satisfied that the students comprehended the instructions she added, "For everyone's reference, I am Professor McGonagall. I will return shortly to guide you to the Great Hall." She disappeared into the room beyond, and without a hovering threat, the students resumed talking. Taylor jumped unexpectedly when a scream echoed off the walls like a gunshot fired in a submarine. A silvery ghost appeared in the middle of the crowd and glided toward the ceiling.

"It's only one of the ghosts who haunt the castle. There is a ghost for each house, you know." Lily explained. Taylor rubbed her hands together nervously. Memories of the orphanage rewound in her cranium, echoing Daniel Babio's twilight horror stories and childhood nightmares. For Taylor, spirits were personified by cold lifeless beings that lurked in dark corners and locked children in mysterious closets. A ghost donning clothes from the fifteenth century, fine lace and a ruffle pleated collar, floated toward Lily.

"I prefer to say _accommodate_, rather than _haunt,_ my dear." The ghost's voice was good-humored and cheery. He floated over Remus, who shuddered from the sudden airy chill. "No troublemakers in this year's Gryffindor class, I hope!" Sirius and James made eye contact. Taylor overheard the ghost's friendly introduction to a short brown eyed girl. "I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, but I prefer Sir Nicholas. Good luck with your sorting."

"I've heard my brother call him Nearly Headless Nick." Sirius whispered to James. "Story goes, the executioner's axe was blunt and it took forty-five whacks to kill him. Even then his head was only partially severed from his body."

"That's an unlucky bit." James rubbed the back of his own neck in partial sympathy. The doors swung open and Professor McGonagall reappeared.

"Come along. Don't dally." She ordered, looking over her spectacles at the nervous group.

Four long decorated tables filled with students, created spacious aisles within the Great Hall. The tables were already set with gleaming golden plates, goblets, and silverware. Hundreds of faces watched the first years enter through the massive wooden doors. The ceiling rendered a beautiful mockery of the sky outside, lit by thousands of floating candles. Shooting stars raced wildly to meet their ends over the professors at the front of the room. Taylor followed the group, which stopped in front of the High Table. A stool with a dirty witch's hat stood lonely. Without warning, the hat squirmed alive and crunched into an eerie face. Taken aback, Taylor fixated her stare on the object. _I must be imagining things. _The hat began to sing:

"You may be shocked to hear this,  
Coming from a cap,  
But I really was not satisfied,  
As someone one's fabric scrap.

I'm not your normal type of fashion,  
I play by clever wit,  
For I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,  
And I will find your fit.

I am very fond of searching,  
For the things you'd rarely see,  
So try me on and I'll advise you,  
On where you ought to be.

You may find a home in Gryffindor,  
Where bravery and chivalry ring true,  
Daring and adventurous,  
Your path is up to you;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Loyalty is all they know,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are honest sure,  
And unafraid to grow;

Or yet become a Ravenclaw,  
If knowledge is what you seek,  
Where those of academia,  
Will surely find their peak;

Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll wield your greater powers,  
Self preservation is the key,  
A strong leader who devours.

So don't be scared my little friends!  
And put me on if you are ready.  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!  
My answers will be steady."

After the song, the emerald green witch looked down at her piece of paper and back at the chattering first years. _That was a brilliant poem little song from a hat!_ Taylor looked down when the hat looked in her general direction. _I would not be surprised if it could hear me think._

"When I call your name, step forward and place the sorting hat onto your head. You will be sorted into your house. Either Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin." There was a long pause, enough for the instructions to ferment in the young students' skulls. She cleared her throat. "Black, Sirius!" The alphabet was cruel to Sirius.

Sirius glanced over to a table on the far right. Green cloaked students readied themselves to clap. Among them, Regulus gave Sirius a Caesarian thumbs down and a bemused smirk. Like a criminal toward the hangman's noose, Sirius turned and sat on the chair.

To Sirius's surprise, the hat triumphantly called out Gryffindor. He took off the hat in disbelief and returned it gingerly to its stool. Offensively, he gestured at the Slytherin greens, who bellowed in unison. Regulus's eyes followed his brother, as he walked to the far left to join his new home. Professor McGonagall called out a few more names, until "Evans, Lily!" came to Taylor's attention. Her friend was instantly and predictably placed in Gryffindor.

Taylor waited patiently and clapped accordingly for each student. "Lupin, Remus." Placed in Gryffindor. She hoped the pattern had become the trend. "Lupin, Taylor!"

Her lungs lurched forward as her breath caught painfully in her chest. She stepped up to the stool and sat down. Glimpsing at Lily eased her tension. Lily crossed her fingers as any good friend would. Behind her, Sirius smirked at having finally learned her name. Taylor placed the Sorting Hat on her head. The fabric wobbled and curled against her hair in a tickling fashion, but she dared not laugh. A disembodied whisper caressed her ear.

"What an interesting combination. Miss Paukstaitis your mind is filled with caverns." Taylor raised her eyebrows. _Surely this hat knows I am Taylor Lupin? Davis even. What the hell is a Pauks— "_Brave and exceptionally talented. I find that highly commendable. But how can I doubt you? Your bloodline runs deep crimson." _I am not sure this hat knows who I am._ "You have powerful potential, but your self doubt is limiting. Your mother was the same way." _My mother?_ Taylor desired for the Sorting Hat to tell her more, but it had no time for conversation. "Family. Ah, yes! Very good." Taylor felt like she was being teased. For a moment, she forgot about the hundreds of faces watching her. The hat continued to mutter to itself, debating on her characteristics. _Did everyone's take this long?_ Then the hat came to a conclusion.


	7. Chapter 7: Dendroaspis Angusticeps

"Slytherin!" The old crumpled Sorting Hat shouted elatedly.

_Slytherin?_ While Taylor considered herself slightly cunning, resourcefully ambitious, and mentally determined, she doubted her ability to blend into the house based on traditionalism. For a minute, she considered objecting to the decision, but instead glanced at the Gryffindor table. Lily frowned with minor disappointment, and looked at the austerity of the Slytherin table. Despite her brief pause, the Slytherins clapped enthusiastically as she returned the Sorting Hat to the stool.

The rest of the sorting continued, with James Potter joining the Gryffindor table. Sirius shook his friend's hand in a congratulatory manner. Taylor was only mildly reassured when Severus Snape was sorted into Slytherin house. _At least I know someone, right?_ Lily, on the other hand, held her head at the calamity. Both of her friends were galaxies away. At the far end of the table, Taylor felt out of place amid the sea of malachite. Occasionally, she noticed other students in her house whispering to one another while glancing at her.

The first years finally disappeared from the circus ring. The headmaster stood up to speak and the hall grew faint. His grey silver hair sparkled in the floating candle light, and his blue eyes twinkled with a warm tenderness. He introduced himself as Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. The stars on his robes rotated and spun gently.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our celebratory feast, I have a few words for you all." From his pockets he pulled out a scroll. Taylor's stomach rumbled in bitter protest.

"Tickle, wings, dandelion, fudge. Thank you. I'm not sure about the rest of you but I'm starved! Tuck in."

Taylor cocked her head and raised her eyebrows at his selected mettle of words. To the first-years surprise, the once barren table, which held nothing but the elbows of students, was now filled with the most palatable food. Pineapples, peppermint humbugs, sausages, and turkey blossomed upon the plates. Roast beef, roasted chicken, and pork chops nestled neatly next to boiled potatoes, yorkshire pudding, peas, and carrots. Everyone's hunger took hold of their minds.

Forgetting all her minor questions, Taylor plated heaping piles of food. _What does it matter what house I'm in?_ _Magic is so clever. _Pumpkin juice refreshingly washed down the meal. It was as creamy as pumpkin pie in liquid form.

While eating, the Slytherins at her table began to whisper in hushed tones. They were casting devious glances toward the first years in their domain. They snickered and pulled out a pack and rummaged through it. Taylor studied them for a moment with a jaded look. Only Severus seemed camouflaged within the popular group.

All throughout dinner, the Slytherins were noisy and gossiped about people who they did not know. Taylor cleaned up her spot a bit and relaxed, waiting to be dismissed. Bloated with scrumptious food, her eyes began to droop. A slick cold coil wrapped itself around her exposed ankle. Taylor froze imagining a terrifying muscular creature with drooling fangs. The second year Slytherins burst out a cackle and watched for her reaction. Taylor swallowed and took a closer look under the table. A small glossy green snake flicked its tongue up at her. Its bright greenish-yellow belly heaved with fear. The reptile looked frightened to be on the ground. Its yellow eyes geometrically contrasted elegantly upon its thin rectangular head. Round pupils connected innocently with Taylor's sympathetic eyes. The snake wrapped its thin tail around Taylor's leg, as if it were a tree branch.

_Help me! Where are the treessssss? Pleassse._ It pleaded. Taylor gaped at the animal.

_Did it just talk? It definitely talked. Food just appeared from thin air, and you doubt that a snake can speak? _Rather foolishly, she answered the snake's plea.

"How can I help?" It seemed equally startled by her reply. The serpent tightened its grip on her ankle, composing its story.

_Thossse awful boys have hidden me for dayssss in a dark box. I missss the treesss. I haven't fed in weekssss._ Taylor brought down a carrot stick. It edged away from her offering. Taylor presented the snake roast beef, which it declined feebly. Insects and rodents were not on the menu. Taylor shook her head.

"There's no food for a snake up here." The snake curled closer.

_Help, pleasssssssse_. It wearily hissed.

"Alright, alright. Don't bite me though." She reached down and picked up the reptile. The feast was just ending as the headmaster dove into a real speech. He introduced the staff, warned the first years about the Forbidden Forest, and extended a final warming welcome. As students began to file out of the Great Hall, she approached the headmaster. _He is going to think I am loony. He couldn't possibly judge me after his first speech. Will he speak meaningless words to me, like dandelion or fudge?_

She patiently waited until he was done discussing dragon internships with a group of giggling Hufflepuff girls. With great care, he turned to her and smiled brightly. Taylor felt warm inside and all her uncertainties were forgotten. She held the snake up to her nose.

"Excuse me. This snake was under the Slytherin table. He's really hungry and I was wondering, since first years especially aren't allowed to go out on the grounds at night, if you could drop him off outside in a tree. Being that you are a professor, and in charge of the school and…" Taylor realized she was rambling, but the whole time, the headmaster just nodded.

"A hungry snake? I'll take him straight to the forest for you." Dumbledore had a certain look in his eye as if he were scanning Taylor for corruption. Finding none, he grinned and took hold of the reptile. "Well off to bed Miss Lupin, if you hurry, you'll be able to find the Slytherin prefect. They shouldn't be too far."

_Thankssss_. The serpent curled around Dumbledore's warm hand. Taylor left the great hall and managed to find the crowd she was searching for.

* * *

Sirius studied the paintings on the wall of the Gryffindor common room. Monks swayed in meditation, while knights saved damsels in distress. Lily did not dawdle in the common room to catch the boys. She felt like a cornered animal, without a chance for escape.

James, on the other hand, declared the common room as his own. He sat on the couch next to Remus and scratched his foot. "Finally, a place to call home." Sirius snorted in agreement. He concentrated on the cracks in the wall and traced each one with his finger.

"If you keep molesting that wall like that, I'm going to have to report you to the prefects." James mocked. Sirius chuckled and sat down on a maroon rug near the blazing fire.

"I'm going to like this house." He admitted

"Better than Slytherin, I'm sure." Remus replied looking over his book, _Hogwarts: A History_.

"Do you ever put those books down?" Sirius asked. Remus looked down at his lap embarrassed. James wrapped an arm around Remus's shoulders.

"We like our little bookworm when he's reading though. He can give us that valuable information and do our homework when we get tired of doing it." Remus smiled and pushed him off.

"You really are a git, James." He remarked with a smile. Sirius and James laughed in uncanny unison.

* * *

The Slytherin prefect led the meager Slytherin group down four flights of stairs, through several dark labyrinthine halls. They stood in front of a bare stone wall. Various pictures of snakes curled on dying branches, stared at them from the adjacent fortifications. Some snakes were eating themselves, like ouroboroi. Taylor felt slightly uncomfortable under the reptilian gaze.

The prefect cleared his throat, his brown hair tucked neatly into his uniform cap. "The password is Cruoris Tyrannus." _Blood of a tyrant. _Taylor watched as the bricks parted to reveal a common room area. "Remember it or sleep outside. My name is Rabastan Lestrange. If I have to tell you to do something more than once, I will enact severe punitive measures." Rabastan strolled inside.

Taylor stepped through the hole cautiously, and found herself in a cold marble room soaked in a subterranean emerald light. The windows were petite with silver rims, and Taylor suddenly realized the dungeons were underwater. _We're under the lake!_ The room was arranged with mossy green couches of different shapes and sizes. The room was circular with several layers leading down to the center. The short steps led down to a soft rugged area, like Incan terrace farming. A small fire roared underneath a portrait of a stern Salazar Slytherin. Additional paintings on the wall were not particularly optimistic. Pictures of nesting dragons, harsh prefects, and shadowy landscapes decorated the room. Rabastan stopped near some stairs which led farther down into the ground. He pointed to the left.

"Boys sleep down here on the left. Girls, the same on your right. You'll find your belongings have already been brought down. Enjoy your evening, and welcome to your new home." He parted the crowd and went outside to his post.

Taylor fumbled her way over to the right and into the dormitory. She found her suitcase and situated herself on a four poster bed. She drew the green hangings as other girls her age entered. The dungeon reminded her of the orphanage, the way it resembled a funeral home.


	8. Chapter 8: Thumb Screws

Taylor had an unusual habit of waking up at exactly six in the morning. Resisting her normal routine, she pulled the fleece blanket protectively over her head. _Get up. Classes are going to start and you'll need breakfast._ She stretched, releasing the carbon dioxide from her lungs. Tip-toeing out of bed, she took careful measure not to wake any of her roommates. Each bed was decorated differently. Green and black scarves and Quidditch pennants were the most popular accessory. _Maybe I will figure out something unique for myself tonight. _

Her uniforms were clean and pressed for the first day of class. Once dressed, she quietly examined the new traces of green lining. For Taylor, green symbolized well being and balance. _A safe color._ She put her wand under her cloak and gripped her knapsack firmly. Taylor hiked up the dormitory stairs, emerging to the surface. The common room was brighter than the previous night, but not significantly. Several Slytherin boys were already lounging on the sofa seats practicing their magic.

"I've gotten rusty over the summer." A bronzy haired second year complained; his wand sparked, but fizzled apathetically. His hazel blue eyes locked on Taylor's entrance. "Oi! Look who it is Regulus." Regulus turned slowly and paused for a moment to look at his prey. _This can't be good._

"Taylor. Did you sleep well?" She studied his sincerity, and took it with a grain of salt. It tasted better that way. He looked familiar, but she could not match his voice to his face. _I really need to work on not attracting attention._

"Can I help you?" She asked calmly. Regulus twirled his wand between his fingers.

"This conversation isn't a matter of whether or not you _can_ help me; so much as, you _will_ help me when I'm done making an example of you." The hair on the back of her neck electrified with a deep pitted fear. She refused, however, to become as helpless as a deer caught in headlights. Resisting the urge to snap back at him, she merely shrugged.

"What can I do for you, Regulus?" She strained her voice.

"We aren't on a first name basis yet Taylor. Don't get brash with me."

Taylor did not want to pursue a verbal conflict with a student who clearly knew more magic than she did. Since she knew none, she was careful to hold her cards right. _It's too early to argue anyway._ Instead, she turned to leave the common room. Before she could reach the exit, a hand grabbed her shoulder tightly.

"I didn't dismiss you yet."

Now that Regulus was closer, Taylor could see his features more clearly. High cheek bones and an aquiline nose harkened a similarity to the ravens she saw at the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley. His black hair and grey eyes were hauntingly recognizable, but her tired mind was set more keenly on the breakfast menu. Taylor retaliated by pushing him away forcibly. She was not a ragdoll to be dragged around, Daniel Babio had been good practice for days like these. Again, she turned away from the group, when his shout startled everyone in the room.

"Flipendo!"

Flying away from the exit, Taylor landed on the floor at Regulus's feet. The bronzy haired boy laughed sadistically. "You should have used Calvario. That would have stopped her in her tracks really fast—"

"Shut up, Mulciber." He was done playing games. There was no time to dwell on Taylor's hair. Regulus pointed his wand at her ominously. The group of boys chanted the boy on.

"Where is it?" He watched her intently for movement, she did not stir. Her wand shivered against her thigh and her heart raced. _I've never flown through the air before._

"Where is wha—?'

"My Eastern Green Mamba. I know you took him, but I want him back." Taylor narrowed her eyes. _So this is the blighter who kept that poor snake starving._

"I gave him to Dumbledore." She sounded defiant, but they both knew she was borderline terrified. Regulus considered his losses for a moment, and then looked at his friends. He stepped away, his wand to his side.

"That's a shame. He was rather expensive." He cracked a scary smile and held his hand out to help her up. "My name's Regulus." She did not take his hand or trust his bipolar demeanor. Letting his hand drop, he walked away from her. "You're dismissed now, Taylor."

She waited a few moments, before getting to her feet and exited the common room. Once in the entrance hall, she regained her composure. The hall was massive, with stone walls lit by flaming torches and a chasmal ceiling. A grand marble led mysteriously to the upper floors. Giant enchanted hourglasses kept track of house points, by means of rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and topaz. Taylor's footsteps echoed as she made her way to the doors of the Great Hall. Once inside, she glanced at the Gryffindor table and witnessed Remus looking over a slip of paper. His schedule, no doubt.

Sitting down, Taylor realized she was the only student at the Slytherin table. Enjoying the peace, she grabbed hash browns, eggs, and bacon. She mulled the Regulus situation over in her mind, thinking of wittier comments she could have said. Meals were going to be fairly silent and internal affairs. Taylor noticed Lily walk through the oak doors and sit down at the Gryffindor table. As if on cue, a flock of owls swooped down and began dropping letters and newspapers. A black owl landed next to her, eyeing her sausage. Generously, she gave the bird a piece, hoping not to attract a hungry swarm.

After she finished eating, the owl resumed its routine and disappeared beyond the castle windows. A short stout man in black and green satin approached Taylor. The jolly smile on his face was refreshing to see, as he handing out class schedules to the incoming Slytherin students. He maintained a thick shiny yellow colored patch of hair, which resembled a thatched roof of straw. Although his hair was thick, the professor was beginning to bald on the crown of his head. He handed Taylor a section of parchment with her classes on it. The man paused to survey the young student.

"Why, you look like a very respectable young Slytherin!" His measurement of her was flattering. "Have you transferred to Hogwarts? You surely cannot be a first year."

"No sir, I am a firs—" Before she could finish her sentence, he threw his hands in the air in revelation.

"Forgive me! You look so mature. Certainly your intellect matches your sophistication." His words were caramel dipped and laced with sugar.

Unfamiliar with flattery, Taylor wrung her hands. "Why thank you sir—"

"No, no! Don't thank me for your own achievements. Here, I would like to invite you to a party next Saturday. To celebrate the new academic year." He handed her an invitation with gold leafing. His name shimmered on the paper: Professor Horace Slughorn. "I hope to see you there. Similarly, I look forward to having you in Potions class today."

Taylor thumbed the gold lettering, and before she could say goodbye to the professor, he was gone. Taking into consideration the time, she looked down at her new schedule.

-Transfiguration with Hufflepuff (MWF)-

-Charms with Ravenclaw (TR)-

-Defense Against the Dark Arts with Gryffindor (MW)-

-History of Magic with Ravenclaw (TR)-

-Herbology with Gryffindor (MWF)-

-Potions with Hufflepuff (MWF)-

-Flying Lessons with Gryffindor (F)-

-Astronomy with Hufflepuff (T at midnight)-

A spark of excitement surged through her. The subjects sounded fantastical, and the hours blended well. She also had three classes with Lily, six times a week. Apprehension hindered her momentary joy. _Will Lily still be my friend? Would she rather spend time with her newly formed Gryffindor friends?_

* * *

"Astronomy, Mondays at _midnight_? With _Ravenclaws_?" James shrieked enraged. "What about sleep? These teachers are mental." Sirius used a quill to scratch out his useless classes.

-Transfiguration with Ravenclaw (MWF)-

-Charms with Hufflepuff (TR)-

-Defense Against the Dark Arts with Slytherin (MW)-

-History of Magic with Hufflepuff (TR)-

-Herbology with Slytherin (MWF)-

-Potions with Ravenclaw (MWF)-

-Flying Lessons with Slytherin (F)-

-Astronomy with Ravenclaw (M at midnight)-

"And flying lessons aren't until _Friday_?!" James's voice cracked. In a mellow rage, he grabbed a handful of bacon. Comparatively, Remus was ecstatic to begin his wizardly training. Before he could voice his own opinion, a boy with mousy brown hair sat down next to Sirius. Intimidated by new faces, Remus chose to fumble in his pack, rather than converse with the stranger.

The boy's pale blue eyes fixated on a pile of breakfast potatoes. As he scooped a heaping onto his plate he turned to Sirius. "The schedule is a bloody mess, right?"

"Yeah, mate. Everything is as rancid as a dungbomb." The boy scratched his head looking for ways to nurture the social setting.

"Did you hear about Professor Damien Greer? Defense Against the Dark Arts. He's a nasty piece of work. I've been told he still tortures students with thumb screws." James's interest awakened like a relentless Kraken.

"Thumb screws, eh?" He questioned.

"Aye." The boy chugged some warm spiced cider and smiled. "And the Spanish Boot."

Sirius cracked his back on the chair and stood towering over their guest. "What's your name, again?" The tone in Sirius's voice sounded suddenly demanding. The boy cringed and stammered.

"P-Peter P-P-Pettigrew."

"And are you absolutely sure about these medieval torture devices?" Sirius's intense interrogation made James smile under a napkin.

"Yes. I mean, that's what I heard. I- They could be- I—"

"Very well then Pettigrew, your information should be put to use." Sirius looked at James. "What say we skip our first few classes, and go knick ourselves some instruments?" While James appeared to be utterly impressed by the suggestion, Remus shook his head in disbelief.

"Sirius! You can't skip class on the first day!" His friend shot him a look which implied, _Can't I? _Remus recoiled a bit. "What would you do with Medieval torture devices anyway?"

"Nothing. But who wouldn't want to own a pair of thumb screws or Spanish Boots?" He chuckled. The battle was lost. "Want to come?"

"No thanks, mate." Remus packed up his books and hurried off to class, as Sirius turned his attention to the baffled Peter Pettigrew.

Sirius ruffled his hair playfully. "Want to come, Pettigrew?"

* * *

Taylor found the classroom almost instantly, though she was nearly the last one to take a seat. Professor McGonagall, who was wearing a lighter shade of green, motioned for the students to find their places. With a desk near the front of the room, Taylor felt at a slight advantage. On each tabletop, a small stack of needles glistening mysteriously. After a series of complex note taking, Professor McGonagall instructed the students to focus on a single needle.

"Like all great witches and wizards, you will all have to begin working on small tasks. Your first assignment is to turn a needle into a match."

This seemed very pointless to Taylor, but it did seem like good practice. Although Professor McGonagall was portrayed as austere and heartless, Taylor was amazed by her control and poise. The professor even cracked a small smile when Taylor and a Hufflepuff boy successfully turned their needles into metallic matches. _Close, but not quite. This is a lot harder than it looks. _At the end of class, the professor assigned several pages of homework from _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ and personal practice.

Her Defense Against the Dark Arts class was equally as stimulating, if not for other reasons. After a long trek across the castle, she entered the classroom and instantly saw Lily. Her friend was already sitting and transcribing notes written on a blackboard.

"Mucus ad Nauseam. Sounds intriguing." Taylor joked, reading over her shoulder. Lily beamed at her friend's appearance. "Can a Slytherin, sit here?"

"Of course. It would be an honor to have the very Slytherin who was brave enough to strike Mr. Black in the face sitting next to me." Taylor grabbed the seat and too began writing down notes on The Curse of the Bogies.

As Taylor dotted her last period, a portentous man threw open the classroom door, and dropped an exhausted briefcase near the professor's podium. His pitch black hair and almond brown eyes gleamed ferociously. At her angle, Taylor was positive she saw his eyes flash a shade of shadowy crimson. He stared down each student before writing his name down on the board, Professor Damien Greer.

"I am going to make this very clear. I do not take requests. I do not take commands, and I most assuredly do not take bribes. Isn't that right, Peter?" Peter Pettigrew, who grew flustered at the attention, looked down at his desk. "Today, some items very precious to me went _missing_. So understandably, I am in a rancid mood. That being said," He walked up to the board and erased all of his notes. "We are going to work on a subject far more interesting than The Curse of the Bogies. Defense Theory and Conflict Avoidance." The whole class groaned in unison, disillusioned by the drab philosophies of defense.

Taylor did not mind the change in subject too much. _Mucus doesn't sound too appealing anyway._ She leaned back in her chair to stretch her coccyx. She bit her tongue, when she heard a decipherable whisper.

"Having fun in Slytherin?" Sirius Black lounged behind Taylor, with James next to him, directly behind Lily. James put his feet on Lily's chair and annoyingly kicked the back. Sirius followed the example, just as Professor Greer, shifted his lecture to the results of defensive magic on society and generalized explanations of how the nature of defense works. Taylor clenched her jawline and turned to look at Sirius. She whispered a singular warning. Assuming the role of a good friend, he gave her a thumbs up signal and ceased jolting her seat. Before long though, he configured himself into an uncomfortable position, in order to prop his feet atop her chair, near her head.

In her anger, Taylor quickly slid her chair into the table as close as she could. Like a fragile deck of cards, Sirius lost his footing and fell to the classroom floor. Comic relief commenced as the students roared with laughter. The hilarity of the situation crumbled under Professor Greer's gaze.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for interrupting my class, Mr. Black. And another ten points from Gryffindor for performing unsafe actions, such as leaning so far back in your chair you could fall and break your neck." Sirius sat on the floor and gawked at him.

"25 points! Are you mental?"

"I'm a raving lunatic, sir. Now get your rear in that seat before I bind you too it. Two days detention for insulting me." Sirius crawled into his chair and was about to protest farther, but James nudged him in the ribs. "Next time, think twice before interrupting my lesson."

Sirius folded his arms, and remained embarrassed even when James whispered, "At least he won't be able to use thumb screws on you. Lucky break." The rest of the lesson proceeded smoothly.


	9. Chapter 9: Dittany

Lunch was worth skipping. Taylor, too excited for nourishment, used her extra hour in an unconventional way. Alone, she explored the grounds. The prospect of finding alien creatures or experiencing mystical adventures intrigued her. Simultaneously, she hoped her escapade would lead her to the Hogwarts Greenhouses. Heading in a southerly direction, she spotted a small thatched hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The Grimm's Black Forest in Germany became a mild comparison: A bewitching landscape so densely forested with aspen and wych elm. Even the sunlight mistrusted the woodland. The gamekeeper, indifferent under the gaze of the impending forest, chopped wood. Limp weasels and polecats dangled from his shoulders with every hack.

Unable to investigate the forest further, she walked the perimeter. Black tufted saxifrage adorned twisting roots. Curiously, a playing field manifested in the distance. Oval in shape, the massive stadium was surrounded by towering bleachers. She peered through the fence inquisitively. _This is definitely not a soccer field. _At each end of the field, there were three hooped posts at varying heights. The area was deserted and jarringly calm in the forefront of the Forbidden Forest. Continuing, Taylor carefully hiked along the rocky shore of the Black Lake. The towers turned their faces as she circled the castle.

Taylor reached her destination with time to spare. The greenhouses played host to statues of elongated, serpentine dragons, which ran along the peaked glass roofs. Exotic plants lined the interior walls, thriving on sunshine. She found Greenhouse One, pulled open the door, and stepped into a tropical humidity. A pile of compost labeled Dragon Dung assaulted her nose on her way to the tables. Toadstools leaped about her feet with unmitigated delight. Peeling off dirty gloves, the professor approached Taylor.

"Could you help me gather up these toadstools? They are such a flight risk." Taylor had never been mushroom hunting before, and was not very good at it when she tried. Accidentally squishing the first two, she swept the remaining few into a bucket. The professor did not seem to mind the causalities. "Thank you. Very good! Five points to Slytherin." She took the bucket from Taylor and covered it with a tin lid. Taylor took a seat, proud of her contribution of Slytherin house points.

Lily took a seat next to Taylor and even invited Severus to join them. He declined. Professor Sprout began the lesson with a short introduction to Herbology.

"Greenhouse Three," she explained, "is restricted to students. It houses dangerous plants such as Venomous Tentaculas. Also, the tools in front of you will be of utmost importance. Keep them here in the greenhouse." From pottery to tweezers and shovel rakes, Taylor doubted she would ever consciously want to take the tools back to her dormitory. "Today, we are going to be learning about Dittany and fireseeds." The professor flicked her wand and boxes of dragon-hide gloves levitated off the ground. "As a safety measure, I would like to pair everyone up for this task. When I call your names, please take a pair of mitts and the properly labeled plants."

Using a list, Professor Sprout began to call out random names. Surprisingly, Lily was paired with Remus, which worried Taylor to a degree. Before long, her trepidation materialized.

"Taylor Lupin and Sirius Black."

Taylor raised her hand. "Can I _please_ have a new partner?" Everyone laughed at the joke. _I am serious._ She folded her arms, snatched a pair of gloves, and walked toward the Dittany line.

"Hello, Salazar." Sirius joined her.

"That's not at all funny." Taylor picked up a green wooly plant with soft pink flowers. Sirius seized a satchel of fireseeds and followed her to a table.

"Dittany is used in potion-making as a powerful healing herb." Professor Sprout took a small knife and pricked her finger. The students watched intently. A dollop of blood formed. "Its use makes fresh skin grow over a wound when applied topically. The raw plant can also be consumed to heal shallow wounds or an ingredient in Wiggenweld Potion." She clipped a leaf from the Dittany and rubbed the wound on her finger. Miraculously, her extremity was healed. "Also known as the Burning Bush, Dittany releases flammable—"

Taylor wanted to do was strangle Sirius. The instructional lesson blurred into his incessant nonsensical chatter. _Shut up. Shut up. Shut up._

"In your satchel we have fireseeds from a Fire Seed Bush. Not very clever, I know. In order to be used, the seeds must be cooled down, otherwise they can curdle potions. The fastest way of doing this is using the Freezing Spell, _Glacius_—"

"They were just sitting in the drawer—"

"—the seed's temperature will lower—"

"—more security than just keeping them in a drawer."

Taylor turned to Sirius, her patience waning. "Do you talk when you sleep?" Her comments only bought her a brief reprieve. He quickly regained his thoughts.

"Have you had the pleasure of meeting my brother Regulus?"

Taylor stared at him a moment. A semi-trailer truck of cognizance enveloped her. The cruel second year Slytherin from the early morning looked exactly like Sirius. Taylor did not reply, she feared he would seize the opportunity to break into a fully fledged conversation. Sirius opened the satchel and dumped the fireseeds on the Herbology table. The wood work scorched black under the extreme temperatures. A stray seed rolled toward the Dittany plant, and flames erupted in a minor explosion. Professor Sprout hurried over and sprayed the plant with a jet of water.

"Be careful! As I said before, Dittany is very flammable!" Sirius rubbed the back of his head, bemused by the minor explosion. The class finished up and Taylor was happy to head on to her last class.

* * *

_The Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood_. Professor Slughorn waddled down the aisles and handed out a pamphlet. Taylor took notes on the parchment. _Who knew Dragon's Blood was an excellent oven cleaner? _Daringly, she chose to sit next to a lanky Slytherin boy with copper red hair. A crystal phial of dragon's blood circulated around the room for reference. The boy passed the container to her and returned to his notes.

The scarlet liquid swirled in the bottle mesmerizingly. Through the glass, the room was tinted a dark rouge. She turned to the Hufflepuff behind her and set the phial on the table.

"Now if you'd please open _Magical Drafts and Potions_ to the first chapter, we can discuss the Wide-Eye Potion. By next class, we will gather our materials and make our first draft." Taylor ducked under the table to get her textbook; her neighbor mimicked her. He cursed quietly to himself. Looking over, she noticed his frustration over his knapsack excavation. _Bookless on the first day._ _I could help him. But knowing my luck, he'll be insulted. _She hesitated to consider her options.

"Here," Taylor flipped the book open to the chapter and positioned it between them. "We can work out of mine today." The boy stiffened in his chair and judged her sincerity. "Don't make it weird. I'm just helping out a fellow Slytherin." He thanked her begrudgingly.

Professor Slughorn stood at the front of the class. "Also known as the Awakening Potion, the Wide-Eye potion prevents the drinker from falling asleep. It is an antidote for the Draught of Living Death, which we will be learning later in the semester." The boy flipped to the recipe.

_Brewing Instructions:_

_Powder 6 Rattlesnake Fangs and 4 measures of Belladonna in a mortar.  
Heat the cauldron to a medium temperature.  
Add 6 Dried Billywig Stings to the cauldron, char.  
Add the crushed ingredients to the cauldron.  
Fill the cauldron with a generous measure of Horklump Juice.  
Stir 3 times, clockwise. Raise temperature to a boil.  
Add 2 sprigs of Wolfsbane.  
Stir 4 times, anti-clockwise and chill._

"Tasty." He muttered sarcastically. Taylor wrinkled her nose in agreement.

* * *

"This is pointless. Who would want to connect the dots to find a goat-fish?" James squinted through a tiny telescope. In the top-most level of the Astronomy Tower, the Gryffindors observed the night sky. The midnight heavens were blustery at their elevation. Lily rolled her eyes at James's incompetence, and edged away from him. Sirius did not bother with the astronomical toys. Instead, he leaned on the tower railing and watched the canopy of the Forbidden Forest sway in the breeze. Named from a star, Sirius knew his share of constellations. He did not need a telescope to point out the triangular Capricornus.

In order to locate the proper position from the ground, Remus used a sextant. "Capricornus reaches its highest point on September first. I can't believe we just missed it." He looked through his scope eagerly, head cocked obnoxiously to the left. "Still beautiful though." Lily searched the cosmos, but lowered her telescope disappointed.

"I can't find her. Remus, can I borrow the sextant?"

Remus brought his star-seeking instrument to his side. "Absolutely!" A gleaming black hoop shimmered around the perimeter of his eye. Horror-struck, Lily took the sextant.

"Seriously, James? Your own friend? That is the oldest trick in the book." The Gryffindor shook her head, although, she was slightly amused by Remus's bewildered expression. James lowered his own telescope, to reveal the contagious black ring.

"What did I do now?" He blinked innocently. Deviously, Sirius looked over the tower's edge holding back a laugh.

* * *

Lying in bed, Taylor leafed through her Transfiguration homework. Ambitiously, she finished her heaviest assignments before the dormitory began filling up. She stared at the ceiling and fondled the opal pendent around her neck. _Did you know all along? A warning would have been appreciated. _Taylor rolled over stared into the stone.

_Made up of the glories of the most precious gems, to describe it is a matter of inexpressible difficulty: there in it the gentler fire of the Ruby, there is the brilliant purple of the Amethyst, there is the sea-green of the Emerald, all shining together in an incredible union._ Her father's love of the classical echoed in Pliny the Elder's whimsies. She could almost see his reflection in the microcosms of her gem.


	10. Chapter 10: The Arkan Sonney

Charms excited and stimulated Taylor's attention the following Tuesday morning. Professor Filius Flitwick taught the students how to hold their wands in different positions and enunciate spells correctly. His part-goblin squatness did not diminish his clever ability. The go-getter in Taylor's soul thrived on the minor accomplishments she made throughout the day. When Taylor perfected _Lumos_ before lunch, she celebrated with two pumpkin pasties and a teal macaroon.

The History of Magic, however, was more arid than the Atacama Desert. Professor Cuthbert Binns, a ghost with a droning, reedy voice, lulled his students into a state of lethargy. Taylor gave up trying to follow the lesson. She promised herself that she would read _A History of Magic_ from cover to cover before the week was over. _Rip van Wrinkle wouldn't stand a chance in this class. _Every so often, she would awaken from her daydream to copy down a name or date.

The papers Professor Binns read from were covered in a thick layer of dust. "In the fourteenth century, the economic bubble ruptured. This following the Soap Blizzard of 1378…" His words trailed off.

"I wish I had some of that Wide-Eye Potion right about now." Taylor jumped at the voice. The copper haired Slytherin from her Potions class pulled out the empty seat next to her.

She shook her head sarcastically. "How can you be tired? The Soap Winter of 1738 is absolutely thrilling."

"The Soap _Blizzard_ of _1378_, you mean?" Taylor dismissed her mistake with a wave of a hand.

The boy looked up at Professor Binns, who did not notice the conversation. After a brief moment of silence between them, he spoke up again.

"I actually wanted to ask a favor." She waited for his request. "It seems that I have fallen victim to the most unfortunate act of theft. My potions textbook was knicked right out of my bag yesterday. Seeing as I will need a class copy, I ordered another. Flourish and Botts responded to my request with a backorder. So, a replacement will not arrive until next Monday." The boy judged her expression before finally asking, "May I share your text on Wednesday and Friday during class?" Taylor eyed him for treachery but found none.

"Sure. I'll make my copy doesn't get stolen." He did not laugh.

The boy folded his hands on the desk, clearly disconcerted at having asked a stranger for a personal favor. "My name is Fionn Wilkes by the way. Not that you asked." His voice had an aggressive edge to it, and his stoney eyes resonated with temper.

"I figured you'd get to the introductions eventually, Fionn." She held out her hand and introduced herself. He stared at it.

"I don't shake hands." Taylor pulled her hand back to her side of the table. Fionn pulled out his notebook. They sat in silence for the rest of the period.

* * *

On the training grounds, Taylor chose to stand by Lily. Her first week at Hogwarts was nearly over. The only exception was Flying. A variety of broomsticks laid sprawled out upon the grass. Following Mr. Ollivander's process, Taylor picked the only broom she had a connection with: The Tinderblast. Lily, less picky about her flying device, chose the next available Nimbus 1000. In a scene of utmost hilarity, James and Sirius tried to educate Peter and Remus on the basics of flying. Taylor's brother was severely uncomfortable about the prospect of being suspended in midair, while Peter tried to feign previous flying experience.

"Trust me, Remus." James patted his friend's back. "It's simple. You're going to be addicted after today."

Sirius agreed. "Just grip the neck tightly, and don't fall off."

"Good afternoon students! Line up, please. Nice and orderly. Thank you." A woman with light gray hair and golden eyes approached the field. In her arms, she carried a small wooden box, which she placed at her feet. She waited for stragglers to fit neatly in the line, and then introduced herself. "Welcome to your first flying lesson. I am Madam Hooch, and I will be your flight instructor for the rest of the year." In a militaristic way, she listed the basic guidelines and rules for the training field. After a brief digression about the sport of Quidditch and Swivenhodge, the professor ordered everyone to advance to the left side of their broomstick.

Taylor began to feel a pang of doubt in her abdomen. _This has the potential for ending very painfully. With magic, you'd think wizards would upgrade their transportation from a broom to an enchanted automobile. _

"Stick your right hand over your instrument, and say _up_." Madam Hooch commanded. In unison, the group shouted "Up!" Taylor's broomstick shot into her hand. She wrapped her fingers around the pine handle with a grin on her face. _Now this is really awesome._

Sirius and James, natural born fliers, also grasped their brooms with skill. Lily and Peter, however, had to yell twice before the stick complied; and Remus's broom feared his hand, equally as much as he feared flying. Taylor peered down the line inquiringly and noticed Fionn holding his broom at arm's length, waiting for the next instruction.

"Now that you have your brooms, mount it. Grip onto it tightly, or you will slide off." James whispered a dirty joke to Sirius, who burst at the seams. Madam Hooch paused to stare at the two Gryffindors. "Something you'd care to share, Mr. Potter?"

"No, Madam Hooch. Sirius and I are dreadfully sorry for the interruption. Please continue."

The instructor's eyes narrowed slightly, but she carried on the lesson. "I will blow my whistle. When I do this, I want each of you to kick off of the ground. As if you were on a trampoline. Hover slightly, lean forward, and then land back with your feet on the ground." The whistle blew.

Great force sent Taylor hovering into the air. Nearly everyone successfully levitated and returned to the ground, even Remus. Impressed by the skillful set of students, Madam Hooch led the class through steering exercises, speeding applications, and spin prevention. The comfort level rose, and so too did the professor's final first class task.

Madam Hooch picked up the small crate and looked at the students. "The best way to get better at something is to practice."

"I would have never guessed." Sirius mumbled, indifferent to her newest challenge. The other students, however, watched her apprehensively. Taylor leaned onto her broomstick.

"Now that we know how to balance, steer, and hover, we are going to try trailing. By trailing, I mean following a fast moving object." James rubbed his hands together excitedly, and Sirius perked up. "Inside this box, I have a creature known as an Arkan Sonney. The first person to capture it will get ten house points. We will not dismiss until it is back in the crate." The class stood back as she opened the carrier. A small hedgehog with long white hairs waddled out. Thin translucent wings fluttered on its back like a dragonfly in the warm summer. It snorted daintily, but squealed at the sight of congregated students. It jumped toward the sky. Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

"Here piggy, piggy!" Sirius called, hopping on his broom. With nimble speed he jumped off the ground and gave chase. James provided his broom with a sprinting start, and was soon at Sirius's heels. The Arkan Sonney's eyes were bright red and frantic at the wizards' pursuit. While Lily helped Remus get situated on his Oakshaft 79, Taylor took to the air. Flying felt like second nature almost. Wind rushing through her hair made her heartbeat faster.

One by one, the Gryffindors and Slytherins steadily pushed off from the earth in pursuit. Most glided through the air, unable to spur their brooms to a high speed. In many instances, the rodent hog traveled off the grounds over the Forbidden Forest, but that did not stop the boys. The creature zipped through the air as a flash of lightening, followed by the roaring thunder of Sirius and James. Without warning, the Arkan Sonney ducked under the Gryffindors and straight toward Taylor. She reached out; grazing its soft fur, the beast narrowly evaded Taylor's grasp. Despite the miss, she was determined to catch the animal and trailed it attentively.

James appeared next to Taylor, and attempted to sideswipe her out of the air. Holding on tightly, she spiraled like a corkscrew. "Gotta do better than that!" He called behind him. Taylor regained her direction fast enough to race up next to James. His heckling did not distract her focus. _If I can just get a bit closer, I can ambush it from above. _Sirius pulled up to her other side, but yelped when Fionn sped underneath him.

The Sonney wailed, as James reached out for the pig. The already tiny animal became smaller and accelerated toward the clouds. Taylor pulled up reaching for the frightened Sonney, but Sirius intentionally collided with her. At the sudden jolt, she was knocked off her broom. She flailed trying to grab her broomstick, but like the evasive Sonney it sputtered just out of reach. Her stomach was in her mouth. There was only enough time to fear impact. All of the bones in her body would break as she hit every tree limb.

In a fleeting motion, Fionn whipped around and dived for Taylor. Just before she hit the trees, he grabbed her wrist. Pulling her up on the broom, he proceeded after the Sonney. Heart pounding through her ribcage, Taylor looked back at him.

"Thanks!"

He ignored her gratitude. "We might not be able to catch up, but I'll be damned if Potter or Black catch that pig."

The Arkan Sonney wailed as Lily Evans caught up and shepherded it back near the school. Surrounded by enthusiastic students, the creature darted toward Fionn and Taylor. Anticipating its next movement, Fionn pulled up just enough for Taylor to grip hold of the Sonney's bottom paw. She tugged the animal down and hugged it against her chest. Only the size of a house cat, but the animal fought like a tiger. Thrashing wildly, it bucked the two Slytherins until Fionn was able to land on the training field. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and opened the wooden crate. Without stern objection, the Sonney burst from Taylor's chokehold and skittered into the crate with a grunt. Lily Evans was the first Gryffindor to land back on the field, followed by a sour James and Sirius. Having witnessed her friend's descent from afar, she looked Taylor over briefly before turning her rage on Sirius.

"Excellent maneuvering on the Cleansweep, Mr. Wilkes! I haven't seen proficiency like that since the Great War." Fionn smiled smugly under the instructor's compliment. "Catching your classmate and handling a heavy broom—Excellent! I am very impressed. And you dually managed, with stark determination, to catch the Sonney. In that case, ten points for each of you." Taylor felt relieved and wanted to thank Fionn again, but did not. Instead, she turned her attention to the little white hedgehog hairs clinging to her uniform.


	11. Chapter 11: Jezebel

Focusing on classes helped to usher the brisk September into a late October. As assignments piled up, Taylor struggled to manage her demanding Potions and Transfiguration homework. With help from Fionn, her Wide Eye potion simmered into perfection. The slightly nutty aroma from both of their cauldrons titillated the senses of those who sniffed it. Professor Slughorn awarded them passing marks and lauded their attention to detail. Once the potions were complete, the instructor allowed his experimenters to taste their own draught. A cup of common coffee could not parallel the aftereffects of the Wide Eye potion. Much to the students' relief, time and in-class activities halted enough to enjoy Hallowe'en.

Sirius and James, however, could not readily enjoy their first holiday away from home. Both boys were in backorder for detention. Professor Damien Greer owned their souls for two weeks, after catching the boys probing through his office wardrobe. An additional week was added once he discovered the pair had doused his grey knitted v-neck jumpers with itching powder.

Taylor, relieved by the troublemakers' continual absence, found a particular comfort in the Hallowe'en decor. While at the orphanage, any celebration of the dead was considered to be too macabre. As a result, Taylor had not experienced the holiday to its fullest potential, until she met Remus. The Lupins celebrated the holiday with fervor and zeal. Their house was coated with faux cobwebs and plastic skeletons in annual celebration. Hogwarts, however, observed the holiday with more than just the basics. On the last day of October, the Great Hall flourished with titian and silver streamers. A simple lunch became a mystical affair as the caretaker of Hogwarts, Apollyon Pringle, bewitched the masses of stationary pumpkins to hover around the room. The jack-o-lanterns floated around the Great Hall lazily, while chocolate bats hung haphazardly from sconces on walls.

Reading over the most recently assigned chapter of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, _Taylor barely noticedLily sit across from her.

"That chapter on the Knockback Jinx is brilliant." Confused by Lily's sudden appearance at the Slytherin table, Taylor tenderly lowered the book. The groups further down the table had not noticed the red and gold trespasser.

"It really is quite fascinating. I'm sure it will come in handy one day." Taylor's spine stiffened as Lily began filling her plate with stuffing. "Is everything alrig—"

"I am not going to sit alone at the Gryffindor table, while I have a perfectly wonderful friend sitting just across the hall." The redhead paused for a moment to consider an alternative scenario. "Unless you were waiting for Fionn to sit down with you. Am I interrupting a date?" Lily smiled and Taylor could not help but chuckle at her question's absurdity.

Not wanting her friend to feel unwelcomed, she handed her a bowl of marshmallowed yams. "Don't be a berk, Lils. Fionn and I never sit together outside of potions class."

"Pity." Lily twirled her hair around her fingers. "He seems quite handsome with that trimmed red hair."

"You're my friend and you have red hair. Should I fawn over you as well?" Taylor replied plainly. Lily laughed, but stopped instigating. "If I had known we could sit at each other's table, I would have gone over to sit with you." In truth, Taylor worried deeply about her housemates detecting her friend. _Many hounds are the death of the hare._

"Great, then you can sit with me tonight at dinner then! Unless you have _other_ plans?"

Lily raised her eyebrows, almost begging for Taylor to talk more about Fionn. She ignored the implications and agreed to her invitation. "I am not sure how everyone is going to feel about this though, Slytherins and Gryffindors sitting together."

"Think of it as a demonstration." Brandishing her silverware around her head gave her words more character. "Like the nonviolent sit-downs that happened in the United States a few years back. Integration is equality. I am sure even the headmaster would agree."

* * *

A light rain cascaded down into icy pools from a weeping sky. The dark rolling clouds forewarned the campus of a violent evening storm. _It is crazy to be out in this weather. A pumpkin isn't worth getting pneumonia for._ Taylor rubbed her arms vigorously, hoping warmth was hidden deeper underneath her skin. Hands buried deep in her robes, Lily plodded down the stone path.

"I can't believe you've never carved a pumpkin before. It's a muggle tradition!" Lily called behind her. "They never showed you how to?"

"No. I saw Mr. Katsinsky carving a face into a gourd once, but I never had the pleasure of doing it myself." The gamekeeper's house occupied a small area at the end of the path, pumpkins surrounded the hutch like a fortification. "Ogg's assistant keeps a steady supply of pumpkins, doesn't he?" A blast of northern wind chilled the hairs on the back of Taylor's neck.

With great care, Lily chose a bright oblong pumpkin, which she cradled close to her chest. As the pair hurried against the blustery weather, a piercing cackle of angry birds echoed off the Forbidden Forest behind them.

Glancing over, Taylor noticed a flock of onyx ravens lift off from the lawn. A short hair tabby cat flicked its tail proudly at having caused mass pandemonium. To her horror, however, the feline had also managed to pin down the tail feather of a small white fledgling. Instinctually, Taylor sprinted off the path toward the attempted murder. Fluttering against its restraints, the bird snapped up at the cat's face. Unharmed, the tabby playfully gnawed on a wing.

"Get off!" Taylor shooed the cat away and picked up the quivering victim. The bird's left wing hung limply, and its feathers were matted with fresh blood and cat saliva. Clearly irritated by the girl's interruption, the hunter twitched its tail insanely.

Lily caught up to the scene, supporting the pumpkin which sparkled with fresh raindrops. She paused to find her breath. "Is that a white raven?"

"I think so. I've never seen one before." Taylor repositioned her grasp on the petite downy bird. "It's bleeding though, let's get it inside."

"Inside?" Lily asked alarmed.

"It can't stay out here in the rain, bleeding." Taylor walked back onto the path, promising Lily she would meet up with her in the Entrance Hall. Quickly, she took the fledgling into the Slytherin dungeon. _With wounds like this, I am not sure it will last the night_. The bird honked in her hands, as she cleared remnants from her trunk. Generously, she put a sweater in the corner and placed the animal gently on the material. Closing the lid to any possible predators, she gave the bird privacy to recuperate.

* * *

Candy-filled pumpkins roosted upon mounds of rustic autumn apples. Throughout the Great Hall, students of all ages stretched brazenly for golden cauldrons sprouting multihued lollipops and chocolate covered pretzels sticks. Enchanted chocolate bats flapped lazily around the floating lanterns, occasionally becoming tangled in the streamers. The atmosphere was calm, except for the ceiling, which thundered and flashed, projecting the impending maelstrom outside.

"So what are you going to name it?" Lily asked Taylor, plating a hefty scoop of mashed potatoes. The Gryffindor table buzzed with passionate vitality. The first Quidditch game of the season was marked for the upcoming Saturday. Despite the commotion, Taylor diligently shucked roasted pumpkin seeds, considering Lily's question.

"I wasn't planning on keeping the bird. I figured I'd let it go once it could fly." A pumpkin seed shell stabbed the tender underbelly of Taylor's nail. A whistle of pain escaped through her teeth.

Sympathetically, Lily grimaced at her friend's agony. "You can still name the poor thing. Harold, maybe? That's a cute name." _That's hideous, Lily. I hope your future husband has more reasonable monikers for the children._

"Jezebel."

An expression of curiosity brightened Lily's face. A disorientated bat fell into a bowl of nearby white chocolate popcorn. "What makes you so sure it's a girl?"

"I'm not. The name just seems suitable."

Taylor was ready for the conversation to end, but Lily eagerly pressed for further explanation. "I've heard the church ministers back in Cokeworth calling naughty women Jezebels—"

"Jezebel, Queen of Israel, was a beautiful Phoenician princess." Taylor cut her off, meticulously scrutinizing the kernel in her palm. "A new religious order wanted to change the ways of her world. Unlike many pagan women of her time, she was willing to stand up and fight for her beliefs until the end. Knowing death was coming for her, she didn't flee." The pumpkin seed's splintering reverberated the intensity of her history lesson. "She stayed, rubbed kohl around her eyes, brushed her hair, and dressed in her finest robes. For her death brought the finest hour. She would have rather died, than live in a world that she did not believe in. Such a woman should not be dismissed as some harlot."

Several other students, who had paused attentively to eavesdrop on the tale, retreated back to their plates. Lily sat with a fork loosely in her hand. "You should teach the history class. At least you put enthusiasm into it." _Brilliant Taylor, now you've gone and shown off again. _Her redheaded friend reached over and lobbed a heaping mound of beef stew into Taylor's bowl. "Can you eat a bit? I feel like a sow." Taylor rolled her eyes, but pulled the bowl closer.

Hungrily, the first year succumbed to the Hallowe'en Feast. Mopping up a smudge of gravy from her bowl, she stuffed a piece of baguette into her mouth. A pair of hands gripped her shoulders playfully. Choking on the French provisions, Taylor turned to see Sirius's malicious grin. James circled from behind his companion like a frenzied shark.

"Git aff!" She gagged.

"Salazar, chew your food. It's quite unpleasant." Sirius thumbed her shoulders affectionately. _Stop touching me or I will murder you in cold blood._

James took a seat on Taylor's right; his fingers found the plate of stripped seeds. "Don't you know this is the Gryffindor side of the hall? I never would have pegged you as a blood traitor." A flame of ruby anger blistered upon Lily's cheeks as she glared at James and Sirius.

"I invited her to sit with me, unlike you two."

"We don't need permission to sit at our own table." Sirius informed her, letting go of Taylor's shoulders. He reached for a handful of pumpkin seeds, but Lily pointed her finger at him threateningly.

"Those aren't yours. Don't you vultures have detention tonight? " With a shrug, James began to pocket peppermints and chocolate.

Rebelliously, Sirius plucked a single seed from the overflowing pile and placed it on his tongue. "Don't get your panties in a tether, Evans. We are on our way there now." Like a spring, James sprang up from the table. The boys continued on their spree, basking in the admiration of their first year peers.

"It's a wonder they have any friends at all." Lily spat. In order to compensate for lost product, Taylor shucked acorn squash seeds. Ignoring their most recent interruption, the girls continued their menial conversation. Deep down, Taylor chided herself for not providing aid to Lily's oppositional banter with Sirius and James. One Lily, however, was enough to stave both of them off_. _ As the pair wrapped up their scraps, the lights dimmed and ghosts filtered in upon smoky wisps. Translucent beings glided in synchronized formation. Taylor watched the entertainment with adulation, until only a single ghost remained. _In ancient times, Samhain allowed the spirits of the dead to visit the living. I live that every day here._ Irony followed Taylor even after she parted with Lily. There was one more stop to make before she could return to the dormitory.

The thought of burglary caused Taylor's stomach to twist with anxiety. She disguised her theft under moral justifications. Injured and hungry, the raven would not last through the night without a proper meal and medication. A simple wave of her wand and whispered incantation opened the Potion's classroom. There was no time to dawdle.

Taylor rummaged through the ingredients cabinet hurriedly. A jar of squirming miniature flobberworms nearly fell from her sweaty grasp. The flobberworms were toothless brown maggots feeding on their own vegetative waste, leftover cabbage and lavender root. Each end of the worms was identical to the other. Together, the mass exuded a layer of chartreuse mucus.

Much to her displeasure, Taylor remembered that flobberworm fritters were served in the Great Hall for lunch two weeks prior. Shoving away her disgust, her eyes scanned the dusty hutch. She pilfered a small vial labeled _Essence of Dittany_ and closed the cabinet. As she exited the room, she locked the door behind her and hurried down through the dungeons.

* * *

The raven hurried to the back corner of the trunk when Taylor cracked the lid. White and green smudges of waste caked the velvet lining of her luggage. _I desperately need a cage. Bird shit in my carry-on is not an option._

"What trouble are you up to?" She whispered.

Light blue eyes watched her, but the ivory figure did not stir. Taylor dropped several writhing worms into the trunk. Feathers ruffled, but the animal refused to move. She added a handful of seeds to the mix of flobberworms. After a moment, the bird hopped from its position to gobble down the meal greedily. Rearranging the sweater nest, the raven squawked in protestation.

With care, Taylor dabbed a drop of dittany on her stubborn patient's wound. The longer she observed the creature, the more relaxed it became with the developing relationship.

"Goodnight Jezebel." The Slytherin felt confident her new friend was going to survive. As a protective measure against her neighbors' pet cats, Taylor closed the trunk quietly. The bird did not object.


	12. Chapter 12: The Quidditch Match

Banners and pennant flags flapped savagely in the brisk November wind. The crowd roared with deafening volume as the players entered the Quidditch pitch. Their broomsticks held firmly by their side, they listened to Madam Hooch's fair play speech. The first Quidditch match of the season was a surreptitious confrontation between Slytherins and Gryffindors. Bundled in warm clothes, supportive students from all four houses watched from the stands. James rested cozily between Peter and Remus, both of whom waited eagerly to see their first Quidditch game. In standard preparation, the pale Remus propped open _Quidditch Through the Ages. _He studied the positions and squinted down at the field in concentration.

The players hovered in the air, waiting for the initial toss. Thinking ahead, Remus saved a seat for Sirius, who was suspiciously late for match. Much to Gryffindor's disappointment, the match began with a strong Slytherin lead. The green chasers weaved skillfully over and under their opponents, dodging bludgers and collisions. Sirius arrived to join the festivities, once Gryffindor scored their first goal. He dropped down next to Remus, who greeted him with a pair of binoculars. James groaned as Riordan King, the sixth year Gryffindor chaser, fumbled the quaffle.

"Oh the humanity!" James moaned, covering his eyes. "Our best players are fumbling. We are going to be slaughtered."

Sirius kicked his feet up on the seat in front of him. "Have a little faith mate. The boys will pull through." Peter reached over James and Remus to offer Sirius some Bertie Botts Beans. Politely, Sirius declined his friend's offering. Apathy set in as the riveting game tottered on the commentary's slow tongue. Sirius turned his attention to Remus.

"I thought you fell off the face of the earth, cocker. Where have you been the last few days?"

"Yeah, Remus, we were getting worried about you! You weren't in class and you haven't been back to the dorm—" James added, his final sentence was lost in a cacophony of cheers. Gryffindor scored, forty to seventy.

Sitting between the two interrogators, Remus swallowed his lie. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "I-I was visiting a family friend in the hospital. I had to ask for some time off—"

"Go, go! Come on King! Score!" James stood up in chair, spilling a rainbow of beans over Peter. Sirius folded his hands behind his head and stretched his back.

"Remus. I have another question." There was nowhere to run, Remus's heart raced. He hoped his friend did not suspect lycanthropy. "Are you related to that Slytherin girl?" Relief and exasperation exploded like fireworks in his chest.

"Slytherin girl? I am not sure who you are talking about."

"Taylor Lupin. She hangs out with Lily all the time. Both of you have the same last name." Sirius explained directly.

"No relation." Remus muttered quietly. Sirius did not seem convinced, but his attention turned back to the match. Considering his past friendship, Remus could not concentrate on the remainder of the game. Internally, he missed their conversations, but he could not bring himself to forgive her. If Remus admitted he was wrong, he would have to assume the fault of his condition. Gryffindor soared into a ten point lead.

* * *

Taylor embraced the tantalizing mob phenomenon. In unison, she cheered and groaned with the wave of emotion. As Slytherin fell behind, the first year tugged her hair in minor disillusionment. The logistics of the game remained a mystery, but her blood kindled with every play. Slytherin's points stagnated. Disgruntled by the eighty to one hundred and twenty score, Taylor leaned on her armrest. The copper haired Fionn took a seat next to her suddenly.

"There is still enough time for a comeback. Everything depends on whether or not Regulus can catch the snitch." Taylor was surprised to see him outside of Potions. He saw her expression and added, "A lot of my mates are down there playing the game. I saw you here, so I hope you don't mind the company."

Taylor shook her head, which caused strands of hair to fall loose from her messy bun. "I don't mind at all. Maybe you could fill me in on the game? "

"What? You don't know anything about Quidditch?" Slightly embarrassed, she shrugged. _I look like a complete amateur. What is there to know? They shoot the ball through the goal posts._ Fionn accepted her request and pointed at the field. "There are two teams of seven. You have three chasers, two beaters, one keeper, and one seeker. Four balls are on the field at all times, the quaffle, two bludgers, and a golden snitch."

"Should I be taking notes?" Taylor asked feigning sincerity. In amusement, Fionn smirked at her.

"The keeper guards the three goal posts, while the chasers score goals with the quaffle. Beaters keep bludgers away from their teammates and hit them toward the opposing team." Almost on cue, a Gryffindor chaser fell from her broom, blindsided by a heavy bludger to the shoulder. The Slytherins cheered, and Fionn continued. "The Seeker catches the golden snitch to end the game. If a seeker catches the Snitch, his team is awarded a hundred and fifty points." Taylor followed the players on the field with her eyes.

Down in the pitch, Regulus zipped after a golden flicker. The Gryffindor seeker followed close behind, narrowly missing the Hufflepuff stand.

Fionn continued with his Quidditch lesson. "You'll notice, at least between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the tendency for blatching. The players collide with each other trying to knock their opponents out of the air. Exactly how Sirius knocked you off your broom back in September." He stretched, accidentally brushing his leg up against her. Inattentive, Taylor was intrigued by the mechanics of the game. The score dipped back into Slytherin's favor; one hundred and sixty to one hundred and forty.

"Do you play?" She glanced at him for a moment. For the first time, she noticed how exhausted he was. He lounged lazily to disguise his weariness, but his eyes were unmistakably darkened by a poor night's sleep.

"Of course, but I can't really tryout until next year. Madam Hooch offered me a chance to audition after the Arkan Sonney. I just have far too much to worry about right now though. Practices would just get in the way."

_Fionn would be fantastic on the field. _"I'd like to tryout one day." _What a change from never playing with children at the orphanage to openly desiring to join a team sport. _ "What position do you prefer?"

"Chaser." His replied was distant, and eyes scanned the field uncertainly. "Where is Regulus? I don't see the seekers." Together they scrutinized the chaotic scene.

The seekers were missing. Slytherin scored another ten points, as Regulus trekked onto the pitch with a broken broomstick. The Gryffindor seeker held the snitch above his head triumphantly as he flew around the arena. Slytherins groaned in dismay, as Gryffindors cheered and waved their flags. Ruffled and angry, Regulus threw the pieces of his broom on the ground. Madam Hooch, who refused to budge on her referendum, ordered Regulus off the pitch before he could argue.

"Regulus is livid." Fionn got to his feet. "Let's get out of the bleachers before we get stuck in foot traffic."

Students stirred toward the stairwells. Returning to normalcy, Taylor followed close behind Fionn. They emerged before the sea of students, and hurried up toward the castle. The courtyard fountain welcomed the pair to relax. The first years sat on the ancient fountain wall in silence. Taylor dipped her hand in the icy mountain water and stared at the sandstone griffins perched wisely above her. Cleverly, Fionn pulled out his wand and pointed it at the water.

"_Piscis imago_." From the tip of his wand a school of translucent fish shimmered into the fountain. Their flamboyant fins danced as they frolicked along with the ripples. Amazed, Taylor traced their path with her left hand and dared to touch one. Her fingers passed through the harmless specter without difficultly.

"That's brilliant! How did you—"

"Mr. Wilkes. You missed our session to spend your time playing with fruitless spells? Flirting with girls." Fionn's face drained and Taylor's sentence retreated underneath her tongue. Professor Greer stood in front of the boy, his clothes stiffly pressed and his face cold with bitter resentment. The tattered briefcase was securely tucked beneath his arm.

"Professor! I am terribly sorry. The Quidditch match was going on and I completely—"

Professor Greer choked on the word Quidditch. "You disregarded your _studies_ to watch a pointless _Quidditch match_?" A spray of spit dampened their noses. Taylor did not dare to wipe it off. "Pray tell, Mr. Wilkes, what can a nonsensical game do for you boy?" There was no response from either Slytherin, which seemed to enrage the instructor more. Professor Greer threw his briefcase at the boy, and growled. "I expect you to make up for lost time. _Now_."

In an act of pure deference, Fionn yielded to his elder's wishes. He nodded a farewell to Taylor and followed the Defense Against the Darks Arts professor down the path towards the Forbidden Forest. The peculiarity of the situation disturbed Taylor, especially when the realization set in that she was alone. For the first time, she felt genuinely afraid of human corruption. Professor Greer's eyes were hauntingly poisonous with intent.


	13. Chapter 13: The Muggle Post

A jaundiced fog ensconced the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Slytherins and Gryffindors murmured _Fumos_ at their wands, in an attempt to learn a simple Smokescreen Spell. Even after frantically waving away the vapors, Taylor could only scarcely distinguish Lily's braided twin tails. The virile duo directly behind them emitted more smoke than a coal factory. Sirius and James, enjoying the momentary dose of daily havoc, used the camouflage to rummage through their classmates' personal belongings. Unaware of their illicit activity, Professor Greer monitored his pupils from the front of the class. His fierce stare settled on Taylor, who was reluctant to acknowledge the attention.

"This spell is especially useful in dueling." Greer explained over the sound of stumbling students. "Once cast, your opponent will fail to aim their counter spells with accuracy, providing you the tactical advantage. Take note of their position, however, because the Smokescreen Spell can easily become a personal impediment."

Lily bumped into Taylor. "Sorry!" She exclaimed in a rather high pitched voice. Taylor turned quickly enough to see the mist swallow her friend's bright red face whole. In the abyss, she heard James howl in anguish.

As class ended, the group filtered out into a hazy hallway. To everyone's displeasure, the professor arranged an accumulative exam for the following Monday. With the winter holidays quickly approaching, Professor Greer demanded the students exceed to their fullest potential. To spite the ornery old man, Sirius abducted his briefcase from the classroom and hid it behind a suit of armor.

Deviating from the normal routine, Taylor followed Lily toward the Great Hall for a light lunch before Herbology. Together they sat at the Gryffindor table and exploited the freshest finger sandwiches.

"Could I look over your Potions notes? My concoction of the Draught of Living Death has been off by a few shades twice now. Fionn can't figure it out either. His potion turns out a sickly mauve."

"Am I ever going to meet this guy?" Lily asked handing over sheets of parchment.

Taylor rolled her eyes sarcastically. "No. I hide him from you purposely. He's too good to share." Vivaciously appalled by Taylor's sarcasm, Lily stuck out her tongue. Returning to her knapsack, she pulled out a newspaper for entertainment.

The muggle-born witch had developed the curious habit from her father. Every Wednesday morning, Lily had the muggle post delivered by owl. She was fascinated, most notably, by the political violence in Northern Ireland and kept up with the conservative policies of Sir Edward Richard George Heath. In contrast, Taylor was not at all good with politics or keeping updated through the media. Lily furrowed her eyebrows at a particular column.

"That's odd." She murmured.

"What's odd?" Taylor flipped the parchment notes over to glance at the back, scribbling notes into her potions textbook. Her friend hesitated, which prompted Taylor to look up. Lily placed the newly printed paper on the table and nudged it toward her.

"I don't want you to be upset." Lily began. With a locked jaw, Taylor picked up the paper and skimmed the stories.

Nothing seemed to have happened that was of importance to her. _Fifteen people killed and seventeen injured in a bomb attack that destroyed McGurk's Bar in Belfast, highest death toll to date from a single incident in the city. The Ulster Volunteer Force is believed to be behind the bombing. Investigation pending. _

"Read lower." Taylor looked at the paper in bewilderment. _Disappearances Arouse Suspicion_.

"So?" She asked. Lily leaned over the table and pointed to a name in a bold print. _Colby Katsinsky._

A bolt of electricity shot down Taylor's spine, as she nearly jumped off the bench. It had not occurred to her that the old man still existed. Since her first day at Hogwarts, the general store owner and the orphanage were blurs of long term memory_. _Lily was the only friend, who Taylor confided in about her adoption. The explanation silenced Lily's inquiry concerning the relation between Remus and herself. Remus, however, refused to share the secret with his companions, so out of partial respect for her brother Taylor kept quiet on the issue. Despite keeping the peace, Taylor hated sympathy. If everyone discovered her early abandonment, she would have to endure the pity party which followed.

_A search continues for the three children, who have been reported missing from the area of Vintage Avenue in London. Simultaneously, former General Store owner, Colby Katsinsky, also disappeared from the area last Friday. An immigrant from Wiżajny, Poland, there is no evidence to suggest that the two cases are connected. _

Taylor folded the paper, "Can I have this?" Lily reached out and touched her friend's shoulder. The touch felt unfamiliar.

"Of course." The world around Taylor slowed a fraction, as thoughts sieved through her mind. _Where did I put his book by Robert Louis Stevenson? Will I ever see this man again? Who else won't I ever see again? I have to talk to Remus. _

* * *

Disinterested by Professor Sprout's monotonous voice, Sirius disregarded her lecture and agitated his flitterbloom. With poise, he steadily held a quill next to the plant. The magical shrub's long swaying tentacles reached for the feather and wrapped around the shaft gently, like an infant's first finger grip. James, who was now sporting a black eye, etched curses into the desk aggressively.

"Although it bears a superficial resemblance to the deadly plant, Devil's Snare, flitterbloom is completely harmless. Many wizards and witches keep the plant indoors or grow it in their gardens." Professor Sprout walked next to Sirius and tapped his plant with her wand. It loosened its hold on the writing utensil, which Sprout confiscated. Carefully, Remus added a small measure of water to his shrub, which swayed buoyantly. "Very good, Mr. Lupin! Your flitterbloom is content with your treatment. Once happy, your plant will produce harvestable red blossoms, which you can use as a taste enhancer for many potions."

Sirius looked over at James and grimaced. In an overt sign language, he gestured to his friend's eye in curiosity. With careful consideration, James pointed at Lily four tables away. He mimed a devious look, groped his own chest, and then mimicked a punch to the eye. Raising his eyebrows, Sirius turned to watch Lily trimming the dead leaves from her in-class assignment.

"If you felt her up, mate, I'd say she deserved to give you that black eye." He whispered jokingly.

"As a homework assignment, you all must take your plants home. Passing marks to those who can produce red blossoms before the winter holiday." Professor Sprout concluded. The class stirred and filed out of Greenhouse One.

Weaving around the exiting students, Taylor hurriedly approached Remus while he was alone. He packed his satchel in an organized fashion; the tiny flitterbloom behind him sprouted buds.

"Your plant looks happy." His sister observed. Her feeble attempts at communication were destroyed by his silence. She persisted, "I need to talk to you, Remus."

"I am not sure I have anything I want to discuss with you." Low and soothing, she forgot how his voice sounded after months of isolation. Even though it was laced with venom, Taylor longed to hear it again.

The brash dismissal only rallied more emotion to percolate her thoughts. _I am not going to let him leave without saying what I need to say. _He finished packing away his books and picked up his flitterbloom. "I don't know why you hate me so much. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I wish you wouldn't hold it against me."

Without fully acknowledging the apology, he made eye contact with her. Green eyes filled with contemplation. The blame in his mind ebbed away. "What do you need Taylor?"

"Do you remember Mr. Katsinsky from the General Store—"

"Remus! Nice work with the flitterbloom. It's a pity that we couldn't examine real Devil's Snare, right?" Materializing from behind a wall of massive green pitcher plants, Sirius wrapped his arm around Remus's shoulders. "What are you up to Salazar?" Curious about the information Taylor had about his hometown, Remus tried to pull away from the eavesdropper's embrace.

_Mr. Black always makes a difficult situation harder. _Slightly discouraged by Sirius's rapid appearance, Taylor handed her brother the wrinkled muggle tabloid. "We can discuss everything more later, if you have time."_ The ball is in your court Remus. _ As Taylor hurried off to her last class, Sirius snorted.

"I really don't think she likes me. What's that about?"

Remus stared at the paper in his hands and calmly rolled it up. A niche welcomed it safely into his messenger bag. "I have no idea." He replied curtly, following Peter, James, and Sirius onto the grounds. Once he was alone, he would read the paper.

* * *

Professor Slughorn babbled away clever tips and tricks for the class, but Taylor's daydream was too far into space to hear the lecture. Unanswerable questions and counterfactual horrors plagued her mind. She stared at her opal pendent, dangling it around her fingers. Smooth and algid, the rock sparkled in the dudgeon's candlelight. _Who else had she forgotten?_ Guiltily, she thought about her father. _He could be out by the fence now. How can he find me, when I am not even sure where I am?_

Noticing her stupor, Fionn elbowed the absentminded girl in the ribs. "You haven't even started." Reality had a sobering effect. Taylor soundlessly assembled her pewter cauldron. Muscle memory began trimming the dark Sopophorous beans.

"I copied some of Lily's notes." She stated flatly, pulling a notebook from her bag. "Maybe we can figure out what we were doing wrong with the first drafts." Her partner nodded, but concentrated on his task. Using his right hand to hold his cauldron at a slight angle, Fionn poured ten drops of wormwood into his mixture. They Slytherin boy took the liberty of skimming the notes, he paused thoughtfully.

"Chop three Valerian root sections into small squared pieces. Mine have been more rectangular. Maybe that's the issue?" She was oblivious to his query. Engrossed in the boil of her water, Taylor reminisced about Daniel Babio's antics. Fionn brandished his hand in her face, aggravated by her lack of effort. "Do you need a Wit-Sharpening potion or what?"

Taylor's mind returned back the potions room. "Sorry. Yes. Cutting the pieces squared would make a difference." Worried that she would fall back into a state of aberration, he struggled to maintain the conversation.

"Are you going home for the holidays?" Fionn asked, perfecting his cut of valerian. The liquid in his cauldron turned to a smooth blackcurrant-colored gel.

His effort to keep her focused. Wormwood essence drizzled into her mixture. "No. I think I will stay in the castle. I wanted to get ahead on some spell work." _Mrs. Lupin will be disappointed. _

"Well, in that case, I've been told that every year Slytherin hosts a Winter Solstice masquerade. Do you want to go?" Brass scales measured fifty ounces of powdered root of asphodel, before he scraped the remains into his pot. _The Winter Solstice: The reversal of the Sun's ebbing presence in the sky. Birth or rebirth of gods, the changing of the year, and a celebration of new beginnings. _

"Sure. That sounds like fun." She hesitated awkwardly for a moment, as another frightful thought invaded her mind. _What will I wear? How inconsequential of a concern to have right now. I can't agonize. Charles Darwin was right: A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life. _ "What day is it?"

"The twenty-first of December. It is a Slytherin only event and the professors don't know." Fionn warned. Taylor's left hand gently stirred the Draught of Living Death ten times counterclockwise.

* * *

Lily screeched in excitement. "That is fantastic! A Winter Solstice party!" Embarrassed, Taylor scratched the top of her head and tried to find a spot to hide within the spongy sofa. A librarian looked at the red headed Gryffindor warningly.

"I don't have a dress or costume though. Isn't the whole point of a masquerade to wear a mask?" A layer of dust caked the books around them. Lily leaned in close to her friend. They were not going to get much studying done.

"When I attended the local muggle school in Cokeworth, I was in a rendition of The Masque of the Red Death. The mask and dress would be perfect for you. I can send them by owl when I go home for the holiday."

"That would be lovely." Taylor paused a moment, unfamiliar with the title. "The _Masque of the Red Death_? That sounds morbid." Taylor commented.

"You've never read Edgar Allen Poe's The Masque of the Red Death? It's brilliantly horrifying. A disease called the Red Death infects this country. The ruler, Prince Prospero, locks the nobles away in his castle and throws celebratory parties. Or something along those lines." Taylor imagined Lily dancing with a crippled figure of death. She shuddered at her macabre daydream. "I'll send you the story with the dress. I have to admit, I am rather jealous. You have to promise to tell me everything by letter. Every single detail."


	14. Chapter 14: The Winter Solstice

_And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all. _Poe's words lingered for a moment in the shadows of the dormitory. Taylor haphazardly lounged upon her bed. Spine pressed to the mattress, her legs became a ninety-degree angle propped against the cold stone wall. A complete copy of Edgar Allen Poe's works levitated above her face. _Wingardium Leviosa_, the hover spell, was convenient for all occasions. She brought the book to her chest, waiting for the eerie aftereffects of _The Masque of the Red Death _to dissipate. Mechanically, her fingers wrapped around the opal. She elevated it up to her nose. An alternating crimson fire danced in its dark depths. Taylor closed her eyes, grasped the stone tightly, conscious of the heart beating within her chest. _Lub dub, lub dub, lub dub,_ _lub dub, lub dub, lub dub._ Unfortunately, the girl's bunkmate broke the meditation with a shrill chatter.

Reluctantly, Taylor opened her eyes. Perched strategically out of arms reach, Jezebel peered down at her contemplative keeper from atop a columnar bedpost.

"What?"

The raven did not answer verbally. Instead, she descended from her roost and landed softly on Taylor's abdomen. _Well, at least you've gotten more comfortable. _An exodus of students disembarked from Hogwarts for the Winter Holidays, which gave Jezebel quasi-freedom to inspect the hominid decorum. The bird, naturally curious, did not seem impressed by Slytherin house. Jezebel did, however, have an interminable obsession with Taylor. The raven waited patiently for her to return from class and magnetically settled upon the girl's shoulder until she retired for the night. Taylor released the opal pendant and gingerly set aside Lily's book. She sat up and invited Jezebel to rest on her shoulder. Sharp talons clenched her clavicle.

A care package for Taylor arrived less than a week after Lily left for Cokeworth. Receiving a present was a rare and monumental affair at the orphanage. If a child was lucky enough they may have received a piggy bank or a flying disc. Taylor was never so lucky. Father Christmas only left new cleaning supplies, while birthdays were designated for new underwear. After years of disappointment, Taylor expected to see a battered dress or a pair of socks when she ripped passed the tape. Instead, Lily had forwarded unanticipated mirth and merriment. A forest green mask with silvery crisp ivy leaves and semiplume feathers rested near the top of the box. Underneath the mask was a moss green, sleeveless, Victorian styled dress, completed with a complementary silver skeletal hand belt.

The outfit accurately represented an aristocratic macabre. Edgar Allen Poe would have been impressed by the design. As part of her promise, Lily also included the _Complete Works of Poe,_ an armful of Wagon Wheels and Bazooka bubble gum, and a note reminding Taylor to correspond by means of owl over the holiday. The delighted Slytherin responded to her friend the same day with humbled gratitude.

Following the package's arrival, Taylor tried on the dress several times. Although she was slightly taller than Lily, the ensemble fit agreeably to Taylor's stature. It was the eleventh hour, as Taylor picked up the box. The Winter Solstice party began at midnight and she needed time to navigate the halls. Jezebel snapped at Taylor's collar and flapped her wings. _If only I had Lily's beautiful hair._

* * *

The hallways were frigid, absorbing the arctic temperatures from outside. Beyond the walls, snow littered the ground and misty gray skies like an overwhelming spray of volcanic ash. The trees from the Forbidden Forest groaned under the added weight of the falling snow. A blizzard outside hurled around the castle, causing the stones to moan and wooden doors to rasp.

A singular thought drifted in the back of her mind as Taylor hurried down a flight a stairs, careful not to step on the fringes of the dress. _I am so happy Remus doesn't have to be in that shack on a night like this. _Remus discreetly confronted Taylor before the Winter Holiday about the general store owner's disappearance. The conversation was more than a series of contemplative speculations. The siblings used the tragedy as the first stone toward the path of reconciliation. Like a perennial tulip, their friendship did not inevitably perish, but merely went into a period of hibernation. Remus even suggested that Taylor return home for Christmas, so they could investigate the curiosity of the case further. She apologetically declined, conscientious of the fact that Remus may want to lavish in the company of his own parents. Regardless, he wished her a happy Christmas and departed for the Hogwarts Express with Lily close behind.

With both Lily and Remus away, Taylor was sequestered into a quiet solitude. Fionn spent a majority of his free time with other Slytherins or studying with Professor Greer. As a result, Taylor utilized the interlude to practice spells, finish papers, and tamper with the institution's rules. On more than one occasion, she wandered the halls at night. The urge to explore was insatiable. While Taylor maintained no issue with breaking curfew, she did not want to get caught by patrolling prefects, especially before the Winter Solstice masquerade.

Her nerves amplified normal sounds. Around every corner, Taylor thought she could hear footsteps, scuffling, or growling. The noise was only the wind moaning deep foreboding sorrows. Hastily, Taylor maneuvered through the dungeons, mimicking Fionn's instructions attentively. She confirmed the accuracy of his directions, when she entered into a room with an extensive vermillion window ceiling. The rich deep colors effectively held her attention. _Red stained glass was the most expensive in the ancient world. Gold was used to produce red and violet glass. I wonder if they bewitched it, or used the muggle method._ The patter of snowflakes only barely covered the surface, as if they melted upon impact. For a moment, she stood in awe at the height of the subterranean room. Through the red glass, Taylor distinguished ancient trees rising around her. Stone roots were etched into the walls of the empty space. It did not take her long to realize that she was below the Forbidden Forest.

A circular inscription in the center of the room read: _Genius loci. Et earum omnia adirem furibunda latibula, ubinam aut quibus locis te positam, patria, reor? _A stone ouroboros hungrily devoured itself around the writing. Taylor walked to the center of the coil and pulled her wand from her skeletal girdle.

With a heavy breath, she pointed her wand at the ground and whispered, "In girum imus nocte, ecce et consumimur igni." The ouroboros's eyes ominously flickered green, startling the conjurer. The words melted away into the stone floor and the snake swallowed its tail, minimizing the circle. A flurry of tiny pallid moths enveloped her. They beat against her face obscuring her vision. Alarmed by the insects' impromptu appearance, Taylor swatted and stumbled backward. The moths dissolved into bursts of harmless green fire, allowing her to regain her balance. Instantly, she realized that she was in an entirely different room. The ending scores of _Carmina Burana_, _O Fortuna _echoed off the dungeons marbled walls. Stabilized, Taylor fixed her mask and rounded a corner. _There was much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust. _

The massive room was decorated with green and silver floral arrangements. A bewitched ceiling swirled with snowflakes which dissipated before they reached the heads of those dancing. The only source of light came from the banquet table's tea lights and a crystalline chandelier emanating green flames. Three boys appeared from behind her and joined the festivities.

Taylor easily melded into the crowd of students, who chatted and conversed openly. Amongst the clamor and disguise, Taylor realized she could not easily recognize anyone in the dim lighting. _I wonder if Fionn is here yet._ Not bold enough to dance to the omnipresent music, she stood by the refreshment table to observe the other Slytherins. Dresses danced with suits licentiously. Taylor turned her attention to the table, where a metal dragon roasted chestnuts. She peeled away the warm shell, removed the papery skin, and munched on the rich treat. Down the line of plates, she noticed a violet bowl of punch. Just as Taylor poured herself a cup of Mermaid Nectar, a boy approached her.

"Careful there." He teased. "That'll stain your beautiful dress, if you spill it. No amount of magic can remove it." A twinge of anxiety gnawed at her hand muscles.

"Yet we drink it? What is it doing to my insides?" Taylor brought the cup to her lips. Surprisingly, the violet liquid tasted like cookies and cream. "Well, it's plenty good." She admitted. The boy laughed and prepared himself a cup.

"Right you are." The stranger next to her wore an old-fashioned black felt hat, with a wide brim and silver feathers. His green and silver face mask concealed all but his chin. "Did you come alone?"

Prying questions usually agitated Taylor, but she had to consider his query for a moment. _Am I technically here alone or with Fionn? _She straddled the fence. "I am here with a friend." Sensing her uncertainty, the boy continued.

"I'm here with two of my best mates." He explained rather coyly. "But seeing as they are both blokes, and I haven't any lady friends, perhaps you'd care to dance?"

"I don't really dance." Taylor put her cup down. "I never had any time to learn." This was partly true. Additionally, the orphanage never encouraged the classical arts.

They boy turned back to the Mermaid Nectar and dropped a few measures from a phial into the silver bowl. Taylor opened her mouth to object, but his gloved hand wrapped around hers and he pulled her to the dance floor. "I can teach you some steps. It's simple."

"What did you put in the—" He twirled her around and brought her close to him. Swaying from side to side, he led her across the floor with ease. Violins and trumpets culminated into a crescendo.

"Isn't dancing much more fun than standing near the food table?" Synchronously, the pair danced to the center of the room.

"Well—"

"That was a rhetorical question." Briefly, Taylor could make out his cadet gray eyes beyond the shadows of his mask. "You're quite good. You've only stepped on my feet twice." She blushed from embarrassment, but he did not seem to notice.

"You're a half decent teacher." Taylor retorted.

The boy smirked and opened his mouth to deliver a witty comeback, but retreated when they were intercepted by another partygoer in silver robes. His mask, which covered only his eyes, consistently shifted from argent to green in a kaleidoscopic effect.

"May I have the pleasure of interrupting?" Taylor's partner hesitated, but released her hands. _Am I being passed around like a piece of meat to different slaughterhouses? _Her first partner dipped his hat to her, and turned on his heel toward the exit. The silver robed boy grabbed her by the waist and brought her irritatingly close to him. Without a word, he led her around the floor aimlessly.

"I am not familiar with this composition." She explained. Momentarily lost in the music, Taylor only barely heard her partner's reply.

"Johann Caspar Ferdinand Fischer."

"I've never heard of him." Taylor shook her head, hoping he would talk more to ease her gawkiness. Her words were answered by an unwarranted and obscene action. His hands slid down her waist toward her backside.

"It's a chaconne in B flat. Charming isn't it?"

Warningly, she attempted to pull her body from his, but he held onto her tightly. She looked into his gray eyes, startled to see that they were so familiar to the boy who had left her with the devil. The eye contact, however, invited him to lean in for a kiss. In the most forward form of rejection, Taylor pushed his face away. Stunned, the boy loosened his grip on her. It was enough for her to edge away, but only barely. Nervously, Taylor's hand felt for the wand on her side.

"Are you daft? You should feel honored that I chose to—" The complaint was interrupted by a boy decorated in myrtle green attire and a silvery spider web mask.

"Sir, I've been looking everywhere for you. There is a young lady, Adrienne Hebert, just over there, who is most interested in a lavatory tussle. If you know what I mean?" Her savior's tuft of unmistakable red hair flooded Taylor with confidence. The assaulter turned for a moment to examine his victim. He considered his options and pointed at her aggressively.

"Don't think that this is over. I always get what I want."

As the boy's silvery robes disappeared into the crowd, Fionn turned his attention to Taylor. "You need to be more careful. I don't think Regulus recognized you in that dress. It is _very_ becoming by the way. But you'd have a lot more to worry about than his wandering hands, if he _did_ realize you were here." Taylor dismissed his chastisement and chose to bask in his compliment instead.

"I'll try. Maybe we should keep moving, so he can't find me so easily?" Fionn easily identified her transparent attempt at asking him to dance. The shrewd Slytherin boy did, however, oblige her. Progressively, Taylor improved her dancing skills. After only an hour, she had memorized Fionn's basic waltz. Her partner's energy, on the other hand, was quickly waning.

"By the way, this necklace makes you quite noticeable to those who are observant enough." Fionn mentioned casually, pausing briefly to catch his breath.

"I don't like to leave it anywhere for too long." Taylor put her hands on her hips. "Are you tired already?"

He laughed heartily. "No. I don't like dancing to Johann David Heinichen."

"A likely excuse." In good sport, Fionn shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh.

"I think I need to get a drink. Then we can resume. Isn't that—"

"No!" Taylor yelped. No one around her cared to stop, but Fionn looked concerned. The chiming of an old clock prevented her from further explanation.

Regulus, who was smeared in lipstick, stood up on the banquet table and clanged a fork against a glass. In an effort to quiet the whole room, he broke the glass all over the floor. The merry Slytherins fell silent to listen to the second year. He cleared his throat.

"The time has come for us to pursue an active endeavor against all mudbloods and blood traitors." A few of the Slytherins nodded in agreement, but Taylor felt slightly flustered. _An active endeavor? What does that mean? "_They are not only a scourge on the magical community, but a hindrance here at Hogwarts."

As not to draw attention to herself, Taylor whispered close to Fionn's ear. "What is a mudblood?" Her friend paused, but whispered back.

"It's a somewhat derogatory term for a Muggle born witch or wizard. Mingling with mudbloods is an act of treachery for most pureblood families. They are considered to be from a lower breed of magic. Undeserving of the potential. I guess you could say they have dirty blood."

"Some new names on our list of mudbloods and traitors include; Mary Elizabeth Fleetwood, Dirk Cresswell, Lily Evans—" A flash of passion flared within Taylor's stomach like angry ulcers. _How dare he threaten Lily! She'll be one of the greatest witches of her time._ Immensely offended, Taylor looked at Fionn who was beginning to nod with the others. She turned for the exit and left Regulus upon his soapbox. Taylor ripped off her mask as she reached the Vermillion Room, barely noticing the ripple of moth wings. In her mind, she reversed Fionn's directions and made her way toward the dormitory. The thud of footsteps echoed from behind her, she froze and looked around for prefects. To her dismay, she saw Fionn. Catching his breath, he matched her pace and walked by her side.

"What's this about now? Did you suddenly get tired of dancing?" He joked lightly.

"You think that it is alright to riot a mass of people against muggleborns?" Her tone was splintered and rough. Taken aback by her ferocity and straightforwardness, Fionn rubbed the back of his head speechless. Before she could walk away though, he stepped in front of her.

"I can't stop the way others feel. Purebloods don't associate with mudbloods. That's just how it is." His explanation was not worth her time. Taylor pushed passed him angrily. "Regulus is just a zealot. If I had known his declaration was going to affect you that much—"

"If I was a muggleborn would you associate with me?" Taylor rounded on him in the fashion of a discontented prosecutor. Fionn took a few steps back.

"Are you?"

For a moment, she considered blasting him through the wall with her wand_. A violent reaction from me would only reinforce their ignorance about muggleborns. I don't even know. I was never warned about any of this. So maybe I was born into a muggle family. Why should it matter? _Taylor ignored the straggler and continued her journey through the dark. Trying not to attract the attention of prefects, she skirted up a flight of stairs into a dreary corridor. Loyalty pushed Fionn to chase after her.

"You know, I don't owe you anything." Fionn growled. "I don't have to take your attitude."

"Then don't. I didn't ask you to follow me. Go back to your ignorant friends."

A muffled snarl from a side corridor cut short their argument. The sconces on the walls flickered violently and extinguished, leaving the two in complete darkness. Taylor backed up into Fionn, who grabbed her shoulders to steady her. A spectral dog manifested from the granite floor and illuminated the intersection with a formidable intensity. With a singular rapid motion, the canine flicked its long forked tail and bounded for the first years.

Fionn pushed Taylor to the side, drew his wand, and shouted "_Stupefy_!" The incantation dissipated upon contact and the phantom tackled the boy to the ground. Taylor jumped to her feet and pointed her wand at the drooling hound.

"_Flipendo_!" Blue sparks exploded from her wand, but the jinx went through the transparent beast. It was not phased by Taylor's defensive magic. Three other specters appeared, along with a thick rolling mist. Simultaneously, Fionn used _Incendio_ to no avail. The creature pinning him to the ground, opened its jaws and clamped down onto his wand arm. Defenseless, he screamed in agony. Blood pooled bitterly on the cold stone floor.

Two of the transparent canines circled Taylor and another bounded toward the thrashing boy. Boldly, the larger of the two beasts lunged at the fumbling witch. The opal around her neck dangled uselessly. The creature tore into her shoulder, gouging its claws into her collarbone. A surge of adrenaline pumped through her veins, as time slowed a fraction of a second. She pointed her wand at the monster and shouted the first spell that came to mind.

"_Lumos." _

The dog howled with excruciating pain as a supernova of green light filled the corridor. Taylor blinked away the pain in her own pupils. The spectral dogs converging on Fionn turned to look at their whimpering brethren. They growled in defiance, but backed away as she hobbled to her feet. Fresh blood dripped from her shoulder onto the bodice of the dress. Weakly, Taylor pursued the creatures with her unwavering green light. Fionn held his arm to his chest and used his other hand to cast his own Wand-Lighting Charm.

The pack of dogs retreated to a haven of darkness. Dazed and in shock, Taylor walked over to Fionn quietly. Together, they kept a weary on the surrounding area and supported each other on their way back to the Slytherin common room.

* * *

After a short trek, Taylor sat Fionn down on a cushion in the common area.

"Sit here." She commanded hoarsely.

Her friend complied, inspecting the gash in his arm in disbelief. Taylor hurried out of the room and to her personal luggage. The silver chain around her neck grazed her open wounds. Fresh pangs of agony blossomed every time the necklace scratched the coagulating cuts. From her trunk, she pulled the stolen Essence of Dittany. To stop the irritation, Taylor pulled off the opal pendant and placed it on her bed. Jezebel ruffled her feathers, but remained observant. With great effort, Taylor hurried back to help Fionn.

"What were those? Not werewolves." She asked trailing off. Delicately, Taylor poured a small amount of dittany on Fionn's injury. Air whistled through his teeth, as he tried not to holler.

"I have no idea. Maybe Hogwarts has released ghost dogs to deter pesky curfew breaking students." It was plausible, but Taylor was not convinced. _I would sooner accept the legend of the Baskerville Hound. _There was a brief moment of silence, while she took advantage of the dittany on her own wounds. The laceration seared with a fiery flash of pain. Slowly the edges of skin melded together. _Is this what Remus experienced when he was attacked?_ "I am sorry this happened. The party wasn't supposed to be a bust and I didn't mean to get angry with you." His apology was sincere, but he was preoccupied with deeper thoughts.

"Thanks for following me." Fionn nodded. She waited an additional moment, before bidding him goodnight. He silently watched her disappear into the girls' dormitory.

_I've completely ruined Lily's dress. Fantastic. I wonder if magic can get blood out of fabric. _Exhausted, Taylor entered the room and moved to sit down on the bed. The silver necklace was sprawled upon her mattress, but the black opal was missing. Her heart beat in her throat, as she frantically looked around the room. _Where is it?! Where is my grandmother's opal?! _Frenzied, Taylor's gaze fell on the quiet and observant Jezebel. The grandiose bird perched on its usual bedpost, the gem in its beak. Before the young witch could react, the raven swallowed the stone whole.

"NO!" Taylor screamed.

A rage accelerated to the core of her very essence. Jumping on the bed with newfound energy, the Slytherin girl swung at the white raven. It squawked loudly and glided to her neighbor's bed in fear.

"Give it back you blasted bird!" Chasing the animal wildly around the room, Taylor was finally able to grab the bird by the wing during midflight. She shook the creature angrily. _Throw it up! I can't lose it! _ A cascade of tears streamed down her face as Taylor stared down at the bewildered and frightened raven.

In her hands, Jezebel's heart thumped rapidly. "I should throw you to those damn dogs."

Staring at the defenseless creature though, Taylor was filled with instant regret at having acted so aggressively. With immense gentility, she placed the bird in its cage. Safely behind bars, Jezebel sat reserved in the corner. A feeling of failure swept over Taylor, who lay upon the bed stifling tears. _And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night._


	15. Chapter 15: Song of the Jobberknoll

Saffron sunlight trickled gently through the tower window onto the stone floor. Five four poster beds neatly circumscribed the Gryffindor boys' dormitory; two remained empty and lifeless. Liquid dawn smeared over Sirius, who pulled a black felt hat over his face in retaliation. James, Sirius, and Peter were the sole occupants of the room over the holiday, which resulted in boisterous nights and groggy mornings. A frosty chill ebbed at their blankets, remnants of yesterday's blizzard. Peter was the first to brave the icy floor. Aptly prepared, he dressed his feet in wooly red socks and hobbled out of bed toward the lavatory. Sensing movement, James rolled over and pointed at the skittish boy.

"Be a chap and stoke the stove, will you Petey?" His hand returned to the comfortable warmth of the blanket. Inconvenienced by the simple task, Peter grumbled. He grabbed his wand from a lopsided nightstand. Sirius's muffled voice stirred from under his hat. With great difficulty, James uncovered his mouth to address his awakening friend. "What's that you said Sirius?"

Tilting his head to become more audible, Sirius responded, "Don't call him Petey. It's sickeningly sweet to hear endearments so early in the morning." Peter lit the central stove with his wand and the temperature of the room rose by a degree.

"Do you mind being called Petey?" James turned toward the retreating boy.

"No. That's alright." To adjust his bladder, Peter waddled from side to side.

Once Peter was dismissed from the conversation, he hurried off to relieve the pressure. A powerful stretch encouraged Sirius to sit up and take in the morning crispness. He repositioned his headpiece, crawled out of bed, and looked out the window. James, on the other hand, resisted the idea of leaving his sanctuary. With sleepy eyes, Sirius noted the snowcapped trees of the distant and sinister Forbidden Forest.

"Last night was entertaining." Peter commented as he returned to the silent room. Reference to the previous night's sabotage stirred emotion. The mood lightened and James emerged from his cocoon.

"That's right! The Fungiface Potion!" James threw his hands into the air with excitement and conviction. "I can't wait to see their snotty faces blistering with mushrooms."

The three howled in wily merriment, as imagination animated visions of Slytherins becoming aware of their mildewed affliction. James brought a mask to his face and mimicked a moaning Regulus, as Sirius named off the different types of fungi they had learned in Herbology over the weeks.

"I have to say though. That party was brilliant." Sirius admitted after having a good laugh.

"Oh, sure." James agreed sarcastically. "It was a great time. While Peter and I tried to keep a low profile, you peacocked your dance moves in the center of the room with girls hanging off your elbow."

"Just one." He corrected the statistic.

"Suave bastard." Peter grunted. In genuine support of the insult, James nodded.

The taunting rolled off Sirius, unable to cling to his conscience. Blending in with the revelry and celebrating with the enemy gave him a sense of superiority. Behind the sheep's mask was a wolf. There was, however, a moment of uncertainty. The shepherd, Regulus, had come too close for Sirius to feel comfortable amongst his frolicking prey. He refused to dwell on his weaknesses and quickly changed the subject.

"I have a secret to share with you two."

"Will I have to request a room change?" James joked. Sirius threw an old candle stub at his friend, who ducked reflexively.

"You're a cheeky bugger in the morning." The room fell silent with anticipation and Sirius continued his suspenseful confession. "Remember the day you groped Lily in Defense? The day with all the smoke?"

"How can I forget that? My eye is still tender."

Pretending to occupy himself with making his bed, Peter chuckled to himself remembering the incident. Sirius waved away the details. "I pinched something from Greer's old briefcase before I ditched it behind a suit of armor." James was instantly fascinated, but Peter looked a bit sick. Stealing from Professor Greer caused the boy to feel queasy and flustered.

"What do you have?" His partner in crime beamed. The curiosity in the room fizzed uncontrollably.

In a quick motion, Sirius pulled out a meager timbered box from the rear of his wardrobe. Facetiously and with dramatic pause, he held the lid closed. His audience's attention abating, Sirius reached into the box and extracted a fragile horseshoe-shaped bone. He handed it over to James, who meticulously examined the artifact.

"What is it exactly?"

Proudly, the Gryffindor continued his devious anecdote for the entertainment of his peers. "Who knows? Some sort of animal bone I wager. Greer probably doesn't even realize it's gone missing. But to be sure, I put an anti-summoning charm on it. The old codger won't ever find it on me, I'll tell you that much." James tossed it back to him and Sirius returned his trophy to its case. The brittle bone was effortlessly camouflaged between thumbscrews and the other pilfered objects.

"I don't know about collecting bones, mate. Dead stuff freaks me out. But it's all in good sport, so congratulations on your mischief." After a short pauses, James scratched his armpit and stretched. "Breakfast, anyone?" Before the cold could sting him, he pulled a sweater over his head. Naturally, his hair became tussled.

* * *

Freedom for Jezebel was nonexistent. Imprisoned in her cage under a permanent sentence, the white bird was subjected to Taylor's constant verbal abuse and distressed pleas. Beak pressed through the bars, Jezebel spent her incarceration practically muted. She only braved the occasional husky caw. Pray as Taylor might, however, the stone remained in the caverns of the raven's belly. To ease her mind from the situation, the exasperated first year wrote a detailed letter to Lily. As the writer spewed the description of her adventures out onto paper, she gradually realized the abnormality of her words. For those unaccustomed to magic, her entry was an elaborate work of fiction. She was Mina Harker from _Dracula_ or Oliver from _Oliver Twist_.

In order to protect her friend, the Slytherin omitted Regulus's proclamation against muggleborns. Instead, Taylor vaguely mentioned the argument with Fionn, which culminated into her dramatic exit and the eventual dog attack. Eager to escape Jezebel's gaze and the confines of the empty dormitory, Taylor visited the owlry to send out Lily's letter with befitting promptness.

Like the flight of her messenger owl, Christmas swiftly landed after only a few days of patience. Despite the recent mishaps at the Winter Solstice party and her digesting opal, Taylor felt cheery on Christmas morning. On her way to the Great Hall for a traditional breakfast, she observed the freshly cut pine garland and red holly bushels which decorated the Slytherin common room. Silver candles blazed merrily in between the natural decor. A tall evergreen sprouted from the stone, near the exit of the room. Tame, argent snakes lay lazily across the branches, like sparkling tinsel. They flicked their tongues at passersbys brave enough to whisk away their gifts. Not expecting to have any gifts under the tree with her name on it, Taylor quickly sidestepped the spruce to claim her plate of bacon, poached eggs, fried tomatoes, toast with butter, bangers, and baked beans. A mug of earl grey tea helped to wash down the hearty meal.

After a midmorning walk of the grounds, Taylor returned to the Slytherin common room to look over her History of Magic notes. Fionn sat on a couch, surrounded by an unwrapped bounty. A few days and a drop of dittany had healed him entirely.

"Happy Christmas." Notwithstanding of his haggard appearance, he made an effort to appear jovial. Around his neck, he sported a new black and green scarf. Taylor responded with warm wishes and moved toward the girls' stairwell. Fionn called out to her disappearing form. "Did you open everything already?"

"I didn't really even look to see if I had anything." Taylor turned to face him and shrugged.

"Were a hermit prior to Hogwarts?" His comment insensitively jabbed her spirits. "Well you have at least one over there. Grab it and sit down, would you? I feel gawky all by myself."

Abashed by his observational skills, she moved toward the tree. The serpents squirmed as Taylor drew near, but they remained pleasantly silent. _I have a present? From who? _Taylor squatted to examine the pile of multicolored boxes strapped with ribbon. After a moment of searching, she discovered four boxes with her name scrawled across the wrapping paper. With new fervor, Taylor picked them up and sat down next to Fionn, who cleared away the remnants of his destruction. The first box was from Lily, shrouded in a conspicuous silver tissue paper. _I should have known Lily would have gone through the trouble of sending something. _Guilt smothered the feeling of excitement. She had neglected to send her friend a gift for the holiday.Swallowing her irresponsibility, Taylor ripped into the gift. Beyond the wrapping and cardboard exterior was an expensive quill and ink set. _I'll use this for my first exam. _Fionn leaned back in his seat and played with the tassels of his scarf.

To her astonishment, a package from Remus was next in the sequence. Tearing away the tacky Christmas patterned gift wrap, she exposed the dark red cover of Dante Alighieri's _The Divine Comedy_. The cover of the book, though worn with age, propelled tears to her eyes. Taylor flipped through the pages, launching a folded note to fall to her feet.

"Are you crying?" Fionn held his witty tongue, for fear of insulting her honor.

"No." Taylor lied quickly. Picking up the note, she unfolded it, and scanned Remus's handwriting.

_Taylor— I meant to suggest this to you sooner. It will suit your love of history. Happy holiday. –Remus_

The note was placed carefully into the classic, which Taylor stacked atop Lily's quill set. _I need to send Remus a book that he'll love. _She looked down at a box from her adopted parents. Disappointed that they could not spend the holiday season together, Mr. and Mrs. Lupin opted to share their love and familial offerings from a distance. The Lupins sent warm emerald sweaters, along with an enchanted bookmark. The placeholder emitted enough light to read in the dark without straining one's eyes. Taylor slipped the bookmark into _The Divine Comedy, _and shifted the articles of clothing to her side.

In cursive, her namesake held an elegant air. The final box was neatly wrapped in green paper, with silver and black ribbed. Taylor searched for the sender, and hesitated when she ascertained Fionn's signature in the bottom right corner.

"Blasted, Fionn. This is how you knew for me to look under the tree." Obnoxiously, she tried to place the box in his lap. "I can't accept this! I didn't get you anything."

"I have plenty." Defensively standing up, Fionn gestured at the pile of dragon memorabilia, books, and sweets. "Open it." After a bit more urging, Taylor unwrapped the gift with restraint. She lifted the lid of the cardboard box and peered in curiously. A pair of cinnamon brown gloves nestled neatly next to each other amidst white tissue paper.

Amazed by their beauty, Taylor pulled them from their display. "They are beautiful."

"Griffin skin gloves." Fionn stated. "Elegancy seems to suit you, but you don't seem to have very many choices in your wardrobe." Speechless, she did not take the minor insult to heart. Her fingers slid into the gloves, and radiating warmth tickled her body. _Griffins have the front legs, wings and head of an eagle, but the body, hind legs, and tail of a lion. I never thought they actually existed._

"I'd hug you but—"

"I'd rather not." Fionn coughed stiffly. "A simple thank you will suffice." The girl smiled at her mechanical classmate.

"Thank you."

Looking at her small pile, Taylor felt loved. She stewed up ways to give back to her friends during the semester, and secretly promised to write to the Lupins on a regular basis.

* * *

The school semester began again after a concise celebration of the New Year. Classes inconveniently started on a Tuesday, which meant Lily and Taylor would only have lunch to catch up on the latest gossip. Similarly, Remus returned to Hogwarts in high spirits, but was only able to greet his sister when they passed in the halls. Although the lack of initial communication was frustrating, the challenge of new material excited Taylor's thoughts away from the past two weeks.

During her first Astronomy class of the New Year, Taylor utilized her new griffin skin gloves. The pelt was soft and instantly warm upon contact, which gave her an advantage in the cold wind. She was able to hold the lens steady and point out the constellations, while others complained about their freezing digits.

Escorted by a prefect, Taylor walked back from Astronomy with a group of chatty Slytherins. Concentrating on his notebook, Fionn was quiet. Her friend's silence gave Taylor little reason to join in the others' conversation. Instead, she followed in silence.

In her peripheral vision, Taylor noticed the ghostly silhouette of a dog. The hairs on her neck prickled and her hand flew to her wand. With a flick of its forked tail, the animal dissolved into the darkness of a side corridor. No one else noticed the animal's infrequent appearance. Its haunting presence lingered with the Taylor for the remainder of the journey, until they were finally safe inside the Slytherin common room.

* * *

Impatiently, Taylor waited for Lily to enter the Great Hall the next morning. The enticing waft of bacon and eggs could not distract her from the gnawing anxiety brewing in her skull. _These hounds cannot be part of Hogwarts. Something about this situation is wrong. _She could not even bring herself to sit down at a table. After several antagonizing minutes, Lily entered the hall balancing her books like a circus performer. The Slytherin girl gave her friend a hand and followed her to the Gryffindor table.

"I need an extra pair of eyes to find a book on ghostly dogs." Taylor began.

"I am sure there is a spell for that extra eye business." Lily selected a crisp red apple from a batch, proud of herself for the witty reply.

Exasperated, Taylor ran a hand through her hair. "I am serious, Lily. Will you help me?" Seeing the gravity of situation, Lily reached over the table to extend a caring gesture.

"Of course I'll help. Are we researching the ghostly dogs that attacked you and Fionn?" When Taylor nodded, Lily continued alarmed. "Have you seen them again? Maybe we should get the headmaster or a professor involved."

Taylor quickly scrapped the idea. _If I tell a teacher, I will have to admit at one point I was out after curfew_. _I don't want to risk expulsion or suspension in my first year_. "We can go to the library after our classes end."

The pair momentarily split up for classes, but reconvened in Defense Against the Dark Arts. When Taylor entered the room, she saw Lily talking to Severus. Severus escorted Lily home for the holiday, where they evidently spent time catching up. A roar of laughter erupted from across the room as a pink rat skittered out the exit. Taylor felt a twinge of irritation at the sound of Sirius's cockily droll. Ignoring the antics, she took her usual seat. Stacking her books at the farthest most corner of the table, Lily joined Taylor.

Several minutes late, Professor Greer entered the classroom. Sweat beads rolled from his forehead onto the floor. His demeanor was angrier than usual. He waved his wand and all of the students' books flew off their desks into the windowless side wall. With a heavy breath, he patted down his hair and wiped away his perspiration.

"Today, we will be taking an exam." A few students groaned, but were silenced by Professor Greer's insane roar. "Oh, don't you worry! It will be simple and painless almost for the majority of you. Take out some parchment."

The class obeyed. Taylor grabbed her new quill from her knapsack and placed it on the desk.

"Don't bother Ms. Lupin. For this test, everyone will be using the quills and ink I provide." Quiet and fearful, Taylor dropped her writing utensil back into the confines of her bag and looked at Lily who was pale under the man's rage.

Eyeing the slow progress, Professor Greer ambled up and down the aisles. Without a sound, he supplied each student with a blue flight feather and black ink. Sirius examined the quill, expecting a trick.

"I want everyone to write a single sentence describing what a gnome is. First week material, so everyone should be comfortable with the subject." Professor Greer leaned on his desk.

"That's it?" A bold Slytherin asked.

"What if we don't know the answer to the question?" James queried, feigning stupidity. The instructor's eyes flashed red at James's question. Taylor, alarmed by his irises' frequent color change, analyzed the man at the front of the classroom.

"If your mind is so fragile that it cannot comprehend the simplicity of this question, Mr. Potter, I will allow you to write down your name or your favorite color. But you _will_ turn something in."

Fear descended over the class, but no one dared to challenge Professor Greer with a blank sheet of parchment. Each student touched their quill to paper and wrote a single sentence about gnomes. _Gnomes live in burrows underground, known as gnomeholes_. Taylor could not fathom the horror in writing a single sentence. As she curved the first S, blood dripped from the pen all over her hand. Globs of the slimy liquid poured onto the paper and desk. Mortified by the travesty, Taylor tried to wipe the blood away, but it poured from an invisible wound. _This is a nightmare._

Alarmed by the mess, Lily shrieked. "Taylor!"

Sirius and James behind her both yelped in unison as the vital fluid poured from their hands and quills, soaking their wizarding robes. Professor Greer, who made no motion to ease their suffering, waited for the class to finish before he settled on his targets.

"You three will see me after class."

It was not a request. Professor Greer disposed of the mock exams and proceeded to give his lecture. Taylor's heart raced and Lily tried to calm her down. _What did I do? What is going to happen when everyone leaves? Can I run fast enough to make it to Slughorn's office without Greer blasting me to the underworld?_ Behind her, James and Sirius complained about Greer's tendency for drama and over exaggeration.

Professor Greer's final word lingered long enough to give Taylor a false hope that class would never end. As students left the classroom, reality sobered her dreams. Fionn was the last to exit. Closing the door, his apprehensive eyes connected with Taylor's.

"Let's make this quick, right? I need to get some lunch before—" Sirius was silenced, when Professor Greer pointed his wand at him menacingly.

The room darkened as the instructor sat down at his desk to look over the quills. "I am not surprised to see the two of your in front of me." He motioned to Sirius and James. Taylor heard the door lock. "My shock stems from seeing Ms. Lupin with you. My opinion of you wasn't high, but now I think significantly less of you." Hurt by both his words and stare, Taylor looked at the ground. Professor Greer paused before he continued with his lecture. "This quill comes from a small, blue speckled bird which never makes a noise until the moment before it dies. In this moment of death, however, it lets out a long scream, consisting of every sound it has ever heard backwards. Are any of you familiar with the Jobberknoll?"

Dead-air suffocated all forms of intellectual response. The inquisition progressed unhindered.

"You see, Jobberknoll feathers are used in a variety of Truth Serums and Memory Potions. Practitioners of defense, however, can enchant the elegant plumes to stain the hands of thieves, liars, or murderers with blood. I narrowed the spell to detect any thief who has committed a crime within the last three months. If you haven't come to a conclusion yet, I will be blunt. One of you has something of mine and I want it back."

_I never stole anything from Professor Greer. _Taylor wracked her mind for potential scenarios. Any excuse to dismiss her from the interrogation. _I am not a thief. Stealing makes me feel guilty, so why would I… _The solution blossomed in her mind like spring flowers. _I took ingredients from the potions cabinet to help Jezebel. The Essence of Dittany and the Flobberworms are on my hands, not Greer's missing item. _Relief was within grasp. The Slytherin opened her mouth to prove her innocence, but Sirius cut her off.

"That spell proves nothing. I could have easily stolen something from a friend. You've been trying to peg James and me for weeks for any old crime."

Professor Greer's lip twitched. Taylor piped up. "Sir, I assure you. I am not connected—"

"Apparently, this will be harder than I expected." Professor Greer imitated concern. He fiendishly dotted a piece of parchment by stabbing the Jabberknoll quill through the paper. "Until my items are returned, all three of you will have detention. Indefinitely. If that isn't enough to put a damper on your chaotic spirits, your Quidditch privileges are revoked for the remainder of the year."

Outraged by the punishment, James clenched his fists. "You can't forbid us from watching the game!"

"I can, Mr. Potter, and I have. I'll also file your names to the headmaster for eventual suspension, if my items are not returned by the end of January." The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor waved his wand and the classroom door unlocked. "You are all dismissed. I expect to see you as soon as your classes are over."

The three chastised students filed out the door, which closed behind them with a snap. _As soon as class is over? I won't be able to research the ghosts with Lily later. Professor Greer has to be told that I am innocent. _Pangs of hatred boiled beneath her epidermis for the criminals in her company. Taylor rounded on Sirius and James, who were calmly debriefing their situation.

"I hope this doesn't stain—"

"Whatever you stole from that man, I suggest you return it." Intrigued he raised an eyebrow at her. "I am not going down with you, just because you thrive on illicit activity."

Holding back his sauciest vocabulary, Sirius leaned in close to reprimand her. "Don't act so innocent, Salazar. Your red hands are obvious. Whether you took part in my crime or your own, you're paying the price for it. That has nothing to do with me."

"I didn't steal anything from Professor Greer." Taylor insisted.

"You stole something from somebody." James snorted.

Unable to argue, Taylor turned away from their accusations and hurried to find Lily for lunch. _I got caught for a crime I did not commit, by a man who seems capable of murder._ Embarrassedly, she recounted the situation to her friend and admitted to stealing from the Potions cabinet. Lily assured her that the situation would blow over, once the miscreants rationalized their legal position and return the stolen article. _Sirius and James don't seem too rational to me._ Much to Taylor's relief, however, Lily promised to research the hounds and report her findings at breakfast.


	16. Chapter 16: Subterranean Rooms

Putting her imagination to a strategic use, Taylor fabricated a plethora of comfortable scenarios, where she successfully defended her innocence and was released from further servitude. The twinge of hope abandoned her, however, as she approached Professor Greer's office after Potions class. Harkening back to the symbolism she had read in her brother's offering of _The Divine Comedy, _the door became the gaseous entryway to the Eighth Circle. Her childhood had seasoned her for the various forms of punishment. Whether she was assigned to monotonous tasks or threatened by the ghastly wooden spoon, Taylor felt aptly prepared for any discipline. Despite her inherent mistrust of the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Taylor vowed to state her case in full before the session was over. Instantaneously, the situation became intolerable when Sirius's cantankerous voice drifted through the keyhole and kissed her eardrum.

"It was just a suggestion!" A scuffling of chairs screeched against the granite floor. Unobtrusively, Taylor grasped the doorknob and entered the room. Professor Greer towered over Sirius, who grinned up at him devilishly.

Noticing her arrival, James clapped his hands. "Now it's a party!" Before Greer could express his displeasure at having to handle three miscreants, Taylor pulled out the Essence of Dittany and an empty Flobberworm jar.

"Professor, I would like to explain! I didn't steal anything from you. A few months ago, I had to take a few items from the Potions closet." Although she held up the stolen objects, Greer did not seem persuaded. Taylor licked her lips, "You see, there was this bird. I saved her from a cat."

The brilliant oration shriveled on her tongue. The man's piercing bistre eyes nearly scalded her retinas, before she could look away. Somewhat delighted by Taylor's shortfall of tact, Professor Greer withdrew from Sirius and approached his floundering pupil.

"Let me make my point explicitly clear to you, Ms. Lupin. Whatever you took from that foolhardy Slughorn imbecile, isn't my problem. I don't give a single damn, even for the most expensively rare ingredient in his closet. I _want_ my personal property back. If that means I have to slit the throats of all disassociated larcenists, I hope you believe me when I say that I will revel in that just butchery." Taylor's legs wobbled under her own weight and the fear that Professor Greer was not exaggerating about his self-righteous homicidal desires.

"Well, that's a load of bollocks." James spat. The professor turned his attention to the audience and pointed his wand at the heckler.

"_Consutus_."

A thin stream of thread spiraled from Greer's wand toward James. Before the boy could react, the black fiber crisscrossed painlessly through his lips, zipping his mouth shut. Stunned by the impromptu castigation, James tried to pry the threads loose.

"Not another word from any of you." Greer warningly directed his wand toward Sirius and Taylor, who were forced to comply with his austere demand. Satisfied with the level of control he wielded, the professor coaxed the students from the office and up a flight of stairs. "Tonight you will be mapping some of the castle's unexplored corridors."

The staircase, passengers included, began to shift from one landing to another. Although Greer designated the stairwell's deviation as an interruption, Taylor appreciated the lapse. The constantly changing dynamics of Hogwarts filled her with a sense of wonder and admiration, even when she was serving detention. The lift was short lived and Greer continued according to his itinerary. _I wonder if anyone ever comes back here. _After long minutes of weaving through doors and navigating down spiral staircases, the small formation arrived in a dusty hallway behind an abandoned library.

A small heat vent, covered with an elaborate bronze grill, rested quietly by their feet. The glimmering metal illustrated a series of elegantly arranged flowers. Professor Greer waved his wand over the vent.

"_Lobelia cardinalis_." The hole expanded like a rubber band and the grate flew open upon a hinge. Tantalized by the thought of adventure, Sirius peered into the gloom.

"This is the section of the castle you will be mapping. I've labeled it Lobelia, in reference to the grate."

"Do you mean we have to get in there?" Taylor looked into the duct, which was barely wider than her shoulders. Peering down, she could only make out the first few rungs of a ladder before darkness suffocated the tunnel. Greer handed Taylor and Sirius a piece of parchment.

"Yes, but don't worry. Mr. Black will be right behind you. James and I will have another section down the hall." The girl was faintly unnerved about traveling in the shadows without the guidance of an adult. Adventure was coveted, but not so far as to risk death. _The hellhounds could be down there in droves._

"Why can't I go with James?" Sirius argued, worried for his muted friend.

"From my observation, you seem less likely to get into mischief, when severed from the umbilical cord that is your friendship." The professor growled. James narrowed his eyes at the surly man. "Listen carefully. Every few minutes, touch your wand to the parchment. This will document the route. Don't bother with the tunnels farthest to the right. I want you to focus on the two passages to the left."

Accepting her fate, Taylor crouched and dropped her legs into the crawl space. "A word of caution." Professor Greer warned. "Do not make a disturbance down below. The shadows do not play host to merciful creatures."

The caveat haunted her as she descended. _I could never go cave diving. It is pitch black. Hopefully, there is a place to turn around on my way out._ Dirt from Sirius's shoes fell onto her hair and lips. Disgusted, Taylor spat. _As if this Hell weren't bad enough! _The descent took a half hour of steadfast climbing. Hands sore, her feet delightedly touched solid ground. The Slytherin girl systematically lit her wand, revealing a massive circular room. As a child, the dark had never frightened Taylor, but the possibility of unknown dangers began to fray the edges of her nerves. A thump confirmed that Sirius had reached the nadir. With a feverish curiosity, the boy traceded the circumference of the room, hands in his pockets.

"Well this is cheery. I bet all sorts of monsters live down here." Thoughts of red death and spectral hounds caused Taylor's heart to beat faster. _I need to stop reading horror stories. _

"Don't be stupid. Monsters don't exist." She snapped halfheartedly.

Amused by her innocence, Sirius lit his wand and clicked his tongue. "Your naivety is showing. To muggles monsters are pure fantasy. Wizards, on the other hand, interact with them regularly. You should know that from your classes by now." The truth burned Taylor's throat as she recalled the werewolf on Vintage Avenue and the Arkann Sonney. She rubbed her hands together and pushed the thoughts out of her mind. _There are four passageways and all night to map two of them._

"I'll take this corridor." Taylor headed toward the farthest left.

"Splitting up?"

"We'll get the mapping done faster if we do."

Impressed by her spark of bravery, Sirius fearlessly approached the second hallway in the sequence of tunnels. "See you back here in—"

Leaving Sirius behind, Taylor penetrated the Cimmerian caverns. Stone walls loomed, threatening to close in on her. Remembering the instructions, she touched the parchment with her wand. Ink blossomed upon the paper, into incomplete lines. A pair of hovering footsteps represented her trek into the void. Holding her wand in front of her, Taylor squinted to see further. As the tunnel became narrower, she had to duck uncomfortably to manage through the passage. Methodically, she tapped the paper, glancing back at her progress. The monotony of the straight line was curved when a three pronged fork presented bolder options. Taylor continued toward the far left, begrudging her choice an hour later, as she was forced to crawl on her hands and knees through a shaft.

A dark blue light, like the reflection of light onto a pool, bounced off the cramped walls. Clambering on her elbows, belly against the floor, Taylor wriggled to a small grated window on her right. Through the silver window, she observed a single blue torch in the rear of a trapezoidal room. No ladder or any other mode of entrance was visible. In the center of the lurid room, grew a miniature tree. With craft and skill, the living timber had been molded into a winged arm chair. The grey bark and spiny shoots buried deeply into the injured masonry. While the chair awed the observer, amazement was repossessed by tepidity. In the chair lounged the petrified leathery corpse of a humanoid creature.

Jaundiced and coriaceous, the emaciated mortal was nearly faceless, except for a neatly pursed mouth. Its lanky limbs reclined upon the chair's armrests, clutching the ends with rigor mortis. Broken insectival wings slumped asymmetrically, down to the floor. After a minute of inspection, Taylor quickly moved on. The idea of being alone with foreign dead entities forged troublesome thoughts about her personal safety. Another hour of crawling and Taylor was finally able to stand. The journey had led her to another circular empty room. _A dead end? You have got to be kidding me._ Turning back to her exit, she took a deep breath.

Forced to crawl back the way she came, Taylor tried to pass her time with positive thoughts; she considered anything to distract her from the impending cadaver. _I wonder how far Sirius has gotten. Has Lily found any information on the hounds? What can Remus and I do over the summer? _As the cyaneous glow quivered ahead of her, she kept her gaze forward. _Don't look over; you are just going to freak yourself out. _Taylor's inquisitiveness betrayed her, when she peered through the grate for one last look. The stiff corpse, no longer perched upon the living throne, stood just below the aperture, facelessly staring up at its voyeur. Stifling a scream, Taylor scrambled onward, clutching the map tightly in her hand. Visions of the creature emerging from the tomb to follow her curdled the student's blood.

Progressing with double speed, Taylor emerged from the crawlspace, back to the three-pronged fork. Time was forgotten in the pandemonium. It took every ounce of her determination to continue onward and take the center route. Consistently checking behind her, Taylor found it difficult to compose herself. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, when a faint shuffling echoed off of the walls in front of her. Beyond the light from her wand, she could only barely make out the empty corridor. Cautiously, the girl moved forward, ready to arm her defense. An indistinct shadow appeared in the near distance, with wide shoulders and outstretched limbs. Its low moan kindled her heart into violent spasms. Rebelling against her fate as the hungry corpse's next meal, Taylor screeched and sent sparks toward her assailant.

"Easy! Easy! It's just me!" Sirius called out from obscurity. The nuisance lit his wand, illuminating the cocky smirk on his face. Taylor, though relieved, simmered with raw unmitigated fury.

"What's your problem?" She fumed. "Did you intend on giving me a heart attack?"

"I thought it would be funny." The boy laughed. "And it was! You should have seen your face." Aggravated, Taylor pushed him into a wall and moved passed him. "I already mapped up there. The tunnel connects to mine. This way was my only option."

"I have one more corridor to explore then."

"Well seeing as I have done my job thoroughly enough, I'll just follow you. You know, Greer has the right idea about these maps. I wonder how I can get my hands on his compilation—"

Taylor rounded on him. "Your sticky fingers are what got us into this mess in the first place! Stop taking things and return what you have before you go and get us both expelled!"

"Greer is bluffing. He isn't going to ruin our schooling just because of some stupid bone."

"Bone?" Taylor raised her eyebrow in contemplation. _What is so important about a bone?_

Concerned that he may have divulged too much information, Sirius paused to consider his response. "Never mind. Where was this last tunnel you have been blabbering about?" Allowing the subject to drop, Taylor began to lead the way. Mapping the subterranean tunnels and returning the surface unharmed was more appealing than Sirius's confession. The pair explored the remaining corridor, which ended abruptly with an ill-fitted red brick wall. _Hogwarts is seriously the most eclectic place in the world. Hidden rooms, ladders in air vents, and dead ends._ Taylor tapped her parchment as they rounded their way to the origin.

"Wanna check out the other two corridors?" Sirius suggested. "We some extra time."

"I'd rather not." Mental conceptions of rigid carcasses lurking the deeper caverns and feasting on flesh nauseated her. "Besides, Greer told us not to." Taylor grabbed the first rung of the ladder.

"He told us _not to bother_. Come on! I'll make sure nothing jumps out at you." His promises fell on deaf ears. Risking the wrath of Greer and affronting demons was not on her agenda. She started the long climb up the ladder with Sirius close behind. "You're so dull, Salazar."

* * *

_Bitter winds rattled the crooked woodland. Moist decomposing leaves littered the ground amidst melting moonlight, while gnarled branches hibernated. Although snow was absent, the air scoured the living with raw temperatures. At her left, Taylor noticed a churning creek. Captivated by the roar of rushing water, she walked along the bank. The girl pulled the sleeves of her Christmas sweater over her stinging hands. _Where am I? _A splash brought the serene stroll to a ghastly realization. _

_ Hundreds of pastel unmoving faces floated to the surface of the creek. Their bodies jostled into one another, dragged down by the current's grasp. Open mouths gaped and inanimate pupils begged for guidance to the great beyond. Taylor, unacquainted with genuine images of death, stumbled onto her backside. Despite the cleverness of an author or the authenticity of a character, words could not prepare her for the reality of mortality. Queasy, Taylor fled eastward, away from the waterlogged decay. _

_Her heart pounded against her ribcage, threatening to break free of its ossein enclosure. The distant clamor of gunfire rattled the trees. An indistinct residue of sulfur brushed Taylor's septum, causing her eyes to water. Overcome by the stitch forming in her side, Taylor collided with a broken tree trunk. Using it as support, she closed her eyes and paused to catch her breath. _I need to get home. _In the midst of silence, Taylor found herself completely alone in the dark thicket. _

_Swallowing fear, Taylor opened her eyes to assess her situation. She observed a small forest clearing a short distance away. _

_"Bringt sie hier!" The air shouted angrily. _

_Flickers of men in grey-green uniforms shimmered brightly in the faint clearing, like a sketchy reel of eight millimeter film. Each solider was an exact replica of the first, down to their four front patch pockets and heavy metal helmets. A few called to each other in an unfamiliar language, while others inspected their polished guns._

"Ist das jeder von Wiżajny?" Silence. "Ist das jeder von Wiżajny?!"

Shaking her head, Taylor approached the scene. To the group, she was invisible. A line of soldiers with military grade shovels began to dig a trench. Their boring motions blurred with an inhuman speed, as the landscape fast forwarded. Taylor reached out to touch the beaming specters, but her hand drifted through the translucent beings. Are they ghosts? _Frame by frame the scene slowed once more to a slower pace. Families in dirty clothes were herded into the hollow. _

_"Was hast du da, Schwein?" An angry voice grumbled. Clearly irritated, a tall solider bull rushed the throng of women and children. An elderly peasant fell to the ground as his grandchildren hurried to his side. A flash of red brought a defining scream from the hostage group. A nearby bushel burst into flames. Mass pandemonium ensued. Without warning, the terrified soldiers open fired on the scattering mass. In an attempt to block the screams, Taylor covered her ears. The muffled groans of bullets tearing though flesh curdled her vital fluids. Harmlessly, ammunition riddled through her. _

_Even after the shooting ceased, Taylor's inner ear hummed with a deafening tinnitus. Mildly dismayed by the troop's outburst, a clean pressed officer approached the now motionless heap of bleeding flesh. A man of lower rank cautiously presented himself to the commander, in order to explain. Palms toward the night sky, he held up a thin wand of rosewood. Irritation filled the officer's eyes. He obscenely yelled at the solider as the others watched. To make his point, he snapped the wand in two and threw it to the ground. _

_"Dies ist wertlos. Dreckigen Zigeuner. Entsorgen Sie den Körpern." Supplemental hand movements motioned the men to drag the bodies toward the trench. The thud of each corpse hitting the pit caused vomit to gush in the back of Taylor's throat. She yearned to run away, but her eyes were now inflexibly fastened on the abhorrence. _

_With difficulty, a young private dragged a woman through the fallen leaves and dirt; it was an unmistakable familiarity. Taylor's own lifeless eyes stared back at her. Her soiled olive green dress caked with blood, soft soil, and foliage. Carelessly, the mercenary roll her into the furrow. He did not even bother to pluck the opal pendant from her neck. The men began to fill the hole with fever pitch, as Taylor clutched the sleeves of her sweater speechlessly. _

_The images disappeared, leaving only the empty clearing and a mound. Taylor ran to the center of the grove, fell to her knees, and plunged her hands into the icy dirt. She had to exhume the body. _That wasn't me. That couldn't have been me. _The ground froze over with snow, stinging her hands. _

_Seasons waxed and waned between the seconds; spring, summer, fall, and winter shortened from months to breaths of air. Several times over the Earth completed its revolution around the Sun. Leaning back, Taylor gazed up at a sky of rapidly forming and dissipating clouds. Flashes of night and day. Rain and snow fell and melted away, as vegetation engulfed the space around her. Barbed shrubs sprouted over the unmarked tomb. Blushing blossoms of cerise roses became the modest legacy of the undisturbed remains._

The world stopped swirling and the forest became eerily laconic. With a heavy hand, Taylor reached out to touch a budding rose. Sub Rosa. Silent secrets lay beneath the roses._ Her fingers grazed the delicate edges. A jolt of agony ruptured behind Taylor's eyes and her eyesight blackened. Blinking back pain, she fought against the throb. Rolling onto her back was the only remedy to soothe the torment. In an attempt to blindly sit up again, Taylor hit her head. Wildly, her extremities searched for an answer to her newest predicament. She was trapped in a tapered coffer. Claustrophobia tightened the air in her chest, but relief subjugated her anxiety when her fingers detected a willowy wand by her side. _

_Promptly, Taylor lit her wand. A coarse plank of wood hovered an inch from her nose. Dirt caked her face, hands, and hair. _I am buried underneath!_ She pounded on the wooden frame, screaming for release. _

_"Let me out! Somebody!" _

_A flutter by her feet distracted her panic momentarily. Jezebel flapped violently, scattering feathers throughout the coffin and shadowing the light from her wand hauntingly. The weight of a bowling ball pressed into her abdomen. Vigorously, Taylor struck at the coffin lid. Drops of blood drizzle from her hands on her face. Pinpricks caused from jagged splinters. _

The Slytherin dormitory was mute. The girls around Taylor slept peacefully under their quilted beds. For a moment, the distraught dreamer stared at the ceiling. Her nightmare had not passed into the waking world. The pillow below her head was warm and inviting, and her hands were unscathed. The scent of crisp earth had vanished. Distressed by the vivid images of her dream, Taylor rolled over on her side to examine Jezebel. The raven was fast asleep in her cage, unaware of her master's sudden awakening. Each feather was a tranquil example of a pleasant night's slumber. The girl, who did not dare to fall asleep again, turned back toward the ceiling.

* * *

Exhaustion and the assortment of breakfast scents clouded Taylor's senses and reason. Effortlessly, she chased a banger around a plate of hash browns. _Today is going to be a long day. _Grease sent the sausage flying off the Slytherin table, toward a group of high-spirited Hufflepuffs. Taylor quietly reviewed her nightmare, blaming the horrors of detention for its intensity.

"You look tired." Lily observed gently. The Gryffindor sat down across from her wearied eyed friend. Taylor did not bat an eye toward the Slytherins who promptly picked up their plates and left.

"Just a bit." Taylor replied. Using a golden ribbon to tie up her hair, Lily subdued her locks.

"I couldn't find anything specific enough to fit your description of the dogs." Lily brandished two thick leather bound books, _Canidae: From_ _Ahuizotl to_ _Wepwawet _and _Awaiting the Weary Traveler:_ _Nightly Dangers Throughout the United Kingdom._ "I decided to delve deeper into these two. They have to be in here somewhere. I'll keep looking in the meantime. How was detention?"

Lily's company brightened Taylor's gloomy mood. The nightmarish effects washed away without residue. "I got stuck with Sirius, mapping the depths of the castle." Taylor plucked another sausage from the turnstile, to replace the projectile she lost.

"Having to spend any amount of time with that prat would be exhausting. What about James?" Taylor smiled and recounted every twist and turn of her adventure to Lily, who consumed the narrative hungrily, along with a heaping of scrambled eggs.


	17. Chapter 17: The Gytrash

Chapter 17

Traversing the obscure crevices of the castle strengthened Taylor's resolve to never become a professional cartographer. Mapping the blind corners and narrow tunnels was a daunting task beyond all comparison. Ghoulish creatures were scarce, but braving the unknown was sinister enough. Every shoot Taylor climbed down invited imaginary leathery hands to reach out and throttle her. Despite her mind's elaborate trickery, she did not encounter another self-moving corpse. Occasionally, a rouge bat would become tangled in the adventurer's hair, giving her a coronary. In those unsettling times, Taylor's distressed fingers ached to clutch the missing opal pendent.

Detention was a tame precedent to her nocturnal delusions. The massacre became a regularly reoccurring nightmare. Each night, Taylor would shudder awake in a pool of soggy perspiration. In an effort to make it stop, the dreamer attempted a slew of creative methods to block out the violence. She wrote the scenes down on a piece of parchment, concocted sleeping draughts, discussed the brutality openly with Lily, and acted out the episode for Jezebel in private. Her efforts were useless. The dream continued, identical to the first, except for Taylor's own reactions. No matter what the girl did, she could not control the indomitable REM sleep. The harder Taylor tried to dismiss the vision, the clearer the message became.

By mid-January, Taylor had thoroughly memorized the phosphorescent sequence: An eastward sprint from the River Styx toward the angry shouts of soldiers, massacre, and impending burial. The dialogue was cryptic, nevertheless she efficiently recollected a majority of the words. Recalling the details for Lily, both agreed that aspects of the dream seemed vaguely familiar, though neither could pinpoint the recognition. Lily reassured her friend that the visions were induced by the stress; Academics, looming threats of suspension, and detentions with the Lords of Delinquency were draining her sanity. Taylor hoped that Lily was right.

On the last Tuesday of the month, Taylor shuffled along with the small group of first year Slytherins after Astronomy class. Orion had lazily chased Taurus across the night sky, shepherding in the giant star Aldebaran and unyielding boredom. Professor Plancius babbled on about the failed constellation, Polophylax, extending the class period by twenty unbearable minutes. Throughout class and on the walk back to the dormitory, Taylor solemnly contemplated Greer's threat to report her crimes to the headmaster for corrective action. Astronomy on Tuesday nights was the girl's only extenuator. In order to get to Astronomy class on time, Professor Greer granted her an hour's reprieve. The instructor's generosity, however, had a price. She was required to spend an additional hour on each Monday to make up for lost time.

After three and a half weeks of detention, this was a regular practice. On Mondays, Sirius and James would leave an hour early for Astronomy class, and for a full hour Taylor was alone with Professor Greer. After the dynamic duo was dismissed, she was put to work cleaning the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom or writing lengthy essays under Greer's reserved supervision. The writing caused her hand to ache, but she preferred the charley horse to crawling through cramped corridors. Without Sirius and James to heckle the ornery man, Monday nights proceeded in a peculiar silence.

The after midnight hours weighed heavily on Taylor's eyelids. Even as the first year girls slithered into their beds, they continued to chitchat about split-ends and plausible romance. Jezebel preened her feathers, self-conscious about frizz or dander. Using her luggage trunk for support, Taylor kneeled down to rummage through her clothes. Her hand hovered for a moment over the latch.

The pristine bronze lock was severely cracked. A blackened residue smeared across a portion of the front. _What the hell? _Quietly, she opened the lid. Previously folded clothes were left in heaps of wrinkled fabric. _Someone went through my trunk. _The trespasser, unfortunately, did not leave behind any clues regarding identity.

Provoked by the lack of privacy,Taylor violently grabbed a set of pajamas. She pulled on the nightwear, and studied the mindless girls through her peripherals. _No one can get in here, but us. Why would anyone want to go through my stuff? Nothing is missing, do they just want to gossip about my personal items? _A flare of anger flashed in the back of her mind. _I should blast each one of their pillows with an acne jinx. _At the orphanage, intrusion challenged vengeance. Taylor, however, slid under her comforter and stared at the ceiling. _This isn't like the orphanage. The enemies you make here will sleep beside you for another seven years. Daniel Babio, a cunning opponent, never had magic. _Pacifism was a demanding quality.

* * *

The following afternoon, Taylor skipped her lunch break with Lily to walk across the grounds with Remus. After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Remus slipped away from the troublemakers and met his sister in the Entrance Hall. The giant enchanted hourglasses, which kept track of house points, dripped with precious gems. Inspecting the emeralds curiously, Taylor barely noticed Remus's approach.

"Gryffindor is so far behind." Remus remarked dejectedly.

With a grin plastered on her face, Taylor rolled her eyes. "I am sure Potter and Black have been contributing to that misfortune." Her brother shrugged and held the heavy oak door for her. A biting gust rushed through Taylor's hair and swirled the tassels of Remus's scarlet scarf. Waiting for Herbology to begin, the siblings wandered the shore of the frosty lake. The Forbidden Forest was still capped with snow, but the ground was beginning to thaw.

Distracted by the picturesque landscape, Taylor's foot connected with a hard object. She lurched forward and stumbled to regain her balance.

"Watch your step." Remus suggested jokingly. His last transformation was over two weeks ago, which aided in his good humor and physical health. "Checking to make sure the gravity is still working?"

"You're beginning to sound a lot like Sirius." Behind her, Taylor noticed a blue-grey volcanic rock protruding from the terrain. She bent down to rub her ankle and noticed several others. Following the pattern, the first year could make out the outline of a circle. "A stone circle. Hey, Remus, do you think this is some sort of sundial?" Smiling, Remus observed the arrangement of the stones.

"Seems like it. It wouldn't surprise me. Hogwarts was founded around the ninth century. Mechanized clocks wouldn't have been popular until centuries later."

"You must be passing History of Magic with flying colors."

"That class is a snorefest." _Snorefest? Even their vocabulary is rubbing off on him! "_Let's sit here then? The view of the lake is spectacular."

Remus scouted the area for a snowless stone and settled down. Less picky about a seat, Taylor swept the slush off a boulder. _Fionn's gloves providing yet another advantage!_ As the pair discussed their classes, a thunderous crack caught their attention. A giant burgundy tentacle breached the surface of the lake, spattering ice into the air. The appendage loitered for a moment, and then returned to the depths of the lake. The two students continued, ignoring the squid's playful salute.

"What do you think I should get Lily for her birthday? It's coming up in a few days. Saturday, actually." Taylor watched the ice melt under her glove. _What if seasons changed as rapidly in my dream?_ Remus scratched his head and tightened his jacket.

"She seems like the type who would appreciate a wizard's chess set."

"That's a great idea." Taylor exclaimed without hesitation. Realization restrained her sudden eagerness. "I have to find one by Saturday though."

"Dearborn from Ravenclaw has a brand new board. Over the holidays, he got it as a gift from his aunt. He has no intention of using it, from what I understand. Usually, we are partnered in Potions, so I can ask for you, if you'd like?"

"That would be absolutely amazing! Thank you." Remus nodded and waved away the gratitude. Taylor tucked her hair behind her ear, and brought a knee up to her chest. "Hopefully my prying bunkmates won't ruin it before I can get it to Lily. Can you believe they went through my stuff last night? They ended up breaking the lock on the trunk your parents got me for travel."

"That's odd. Our dormitory was completely ransacked on Monday." _Ransacked?_ "We returned from Astronomy to find books shredded, shelves dismantled, locks broken, and clothes strung about. Even the wardrobes were knocked over." Taylor was speechless. She could not believe that someone would vandalize the Gryffindor tower. "Sirius and James are on a serious rampage."

"Isn't there anything the prefects or a professor can do about it?"

Remus threw his hands toward the sky in frustration. "Professor McGonagall has been alerted, but the prefects keep insisting that it was an inside affair brought about by _rambunctious attitudes_. Apparently, the general consensus is that no one from another house could have possibly infiltrated the dormitory without access to the password. After all the commotion died down, Benjy Fenwick, the Head Boy, agreed to personally monitor Gryffindor House for the next few weeks."

Taken aback by the coincidence, Taylor could only express a hollow apology. The pair changed the subject and enjoyed the fresh air until heading off toward the greenhouses. Fetid fertilizers wafted from a stack of burlap sacks. The glass of the greenhouse clouded with musty condensation. Taylor sat down next to Lily, who was reading up on Walking Plants. The students fed their assigned plants and took extensive notes. Once Professor Sprout dismissed the class, Lily inconspicuously grabbed Taylor's shoulder.

"Wait up. I need to talk to you." Lily whispered. Her hushed tone set off a cacophony of alarm bells in Taylor's mind. She slowed her pace to match Lily's. From her knapsack, the red haired girl handed over _Canidae: From_ _Ahuizotl to_ _Wepwawet. _

"Did you find anything?" Taylor flipped the book open to a folded page. A penciled drawing of a ghostly canine with a forked tail snarled up from the text. "That's it!"

"Keep your voice down. This is serious." The Slytherin contained herself and glanced at the passage.

_A Pack of Gytrash: Legendary ghostly dogs found in the mists of Northern England and Ireland. The beasts haunt lonely roads awaiting travelers or heedless highwaymen. The phantom can assume the appearance of a spectral white dog, larger than the average Irish Wolfhound. Packs can multiply rapidly and often thirst for mortal blood. Classified as one of the seven deadliest Hellhounds, the Gytrash has become seemingly extinct from the natural world, except when called into existence by experienced necromancers._

Taylor looked at Lily in horror. "Necromancy? Magic dealing with the dead—"

"Yeah, it considered a Dark Art." Lily tapped the ferocious picture and checked her surroundings for eavesdroppers. "This means that the dogs can't be the work of any of the professors here at Hogwarts. Necromancy has been outlawed by the Ministry of Magic."

"The Gytrash could kill someone." Considerations spiraled around Taylor. Returning from detention, she had not encountered any more of the ghostlike hounds. Deep down, the girl felt that she knew who could have the skills and personality to command the ravenous hoard. "Is there any way to tell if someone is a necromancer?"

"No, it literally can be anyone. They would need plenty of practice with the Dark Arts in order to muster a whole pack of flesh eating hellhounds."

With a degree of hesitation, Taylor chose to voice her accusation. "It's Professor Greer."

"Greer? The Defense _Against_ the Dark Arts instructor? Somehow, I doubt his intentions are to maim innocent students."

"That's just it though! Spending time with him, I think he is sadistic enough to actually release rabid animals unto curfew breaking students." Unconvinced, Lily shook her head and bit her tongue. Approaching the Entrance Hall, Taylor studied the page for a moment. _Sirius said he had a bone that he stole from Greer. That can't be a coincidence_. "Sirius said he—"

"What'd I say?"

A pair of sinewy hands grabbed Taylor's shoulders, causing her to flinch and swallow her words. James jumped between the two girls, while Sirius wrapped his arm tightly around Taylor's shoulders. He situated himself comfortably on her right side. Lily reached across James and grabbed the book from Taylor. Hugging the hardcover to her chest protectively, she cast a wary green eye on James.

"What are you girls up to?" James asked considerately. The weight of Sirius's arm caused Taylor to falter. Unsuccessfully, she tried to thrust him off.

Sirius did not wait for their reply. "Remus mentioned that your room was violated last night, Salazar. Is that right?" _Et tu, Remus? Telling my business to the enemy. _Taylor nodded tactfully. "I knew it! Damn Greer and his sticky fingers. Stifling around our rooms like some ugly gnome. Can you believe that twat stole my trophy box?"

"Trophy box?" Taylor's inquiry was hollow.

"Sirius is being dramatic. By trophy, he means the little things he's pinched throughout the year." James nonchalantly tried to put his arm around Lily, but she jabbed a warning finger in his face. Any closer and she would have gauged out his eye.

"Don't even try it, Potter." She growled.

"All the items I took from Greer—Gone! Imagine that." Sirius fumed. His grip on Taylor tightened. For a moment, she was sure that she could feel the steam pouring from his ears.

As she stepped into the Entrance Hall, Taylor pried free of his hooked grasp. "I think you are a bit paranoid." Sirius raised an eyebrow. Behind him, James gave her a Caesarian thumbs up. "Greer couldn't possibly have raided our rooms. I was serving detention with him on Monday night, while you two were in Astronomy. He didn't leave the room once."

"True, Greer _was_ occupied." James began. "But that got us to thinking—"

"You two were _thinking_? That's dangerous." Lily grumbled.

The boys chose to overlook the insult. "We came up with a more viable option." James concluded, running a hand through his hair in anticipation.

"Perhaps his puppet Fionn did it." Sirius flippantly suggested.

At the accusation, Taylor felt her stomach clench into knots. "Excuse me?"

"Don't play the role of advocate. Greer could have easily convinced him to do it. That dozy ginger barely has a mind of his own." Sirius spat. Although Lily was not personally affronted by the boy's comment, she scowled resentfully at Sirius when his lips dropped the word _ginger_.

"Shows how much you know, Black." Folding her arms, Taylor steadfastly defended her ally's honor. "Fionn is brilliant and an excellent friend. He isn't some mindless pawn. If you had half his sense or dignity, you wouldn't be blindly scrounging around for a scapegoat."

"Is that right?" Sirius smiled, unperturbed by her comeback. "Is the possibility of his disloyalty as fictional as monsters are to you?" Taylor bit her tongue. "Take my advice: Don't be naive. The other Slytherins will eat you alive if you don't wise up. Tell your friend to watch his back, Salazar." Leaving the girls behind, Sirius and James headed toward the Great Hall. Despite Lily's comforting hand on her shoulder, could not quell the anger in Taylor fists. Before parting, Lily urged her friend to consider warning the authorities about the dangerous apparitions; Taylor, however, could not concentrate on the Gytrash. She was wracking her memory for a particular image. _Was Fionn even in Astronomy class on Tuesday? _

* * *

Professor Greer's office door was ajar when Taylor arrived after Potions class. She neglected to convey Sirius's threat to Fionn, who had preoccupied himself with the preparation of sound sensitive ingredients. The Slytherin boy barely made eye contact with her, which nourished the seed of disillusionment growing in her mind.

Focusing on the tasks ahead, Taylor took a deep breath and entered the room. Professor Greer was hastily scribbling runes onto a crumpled piece of parchment. Too busy to look up, he motioned for her to take a seat. The rabble-rousers were already comfortably lounging in their chairs. Sirius cleaned his nails with the tip of his quill, while James cradled his head against the desk in an attempt to nap. After a long silence, Greer looked up at the three students.

"I am dropping the charges against you." Half awake, James jolted to the side. News of acquittal, brought a smile to Taylor's face. _What luck!_ _I am not going to be suspended after all! "_As beneficial as it may be to keep three filchers on a tight leash, it seems that my possessions have miraculously reappeared. I am delighted to finally have them back. One more week of detention and your evenings will become your own again."

"If you have your stuff back, then why not let us leave now? Why waste our time?" Sirius asked through his teeth.

"Cheek, Mr. Black, will add an additional two days to your sentence. Do not test me. The simple fact remains that you all committed a crime. Small and insignificant it may seem in that trifling brain of yours, but the deed will not go unpunished. Which is why, the three of you will still be banned from all pending Quidditch matches."

A distressed moan seeped from James like a deflating balloon. No one dared to speak. They feared Greer's ability to withhold next year's matches as well. The professor smiled at his pupil's smugly. Not being able to attend anymore matches was not a catastrophe for Taylor. She was able to appreciate the comforting prospects of her situation. A burden was lifted from her shoulders. Sirius, on the other hand was not as optimistic. Under his breath, he vowed to sabotage the stealthy Fionn and shameless Professor Greer.


	18. Chapter 18: The Room of Runes

The end of January ushered in a bitter squall to accompany Lily's ardent birthday plans. Using the supplies she could find, Taylor was able to wrap the chess set in an iridescent burgundy tissue paper. Along with the game, the Slytherin fixed the tears and refined the stains on her friend's masquerade dress, which she folded neatly upon the claret colored package. Much to Taylor's satisfaction, Lily became engrossed with wizard's chess; upon the gift's opening, she requested to play immediately. Together, they spent hours practicing the rules, techniques, and algebraic notations. Both girls were surprised when the pieces began to destroy one another. Lily's knight tried to give her advice, while Taylor's ebony bishop shouted curses to the ivory queen.

With a new hobby to pass the time and detention behind her, Taylor once again began to enjoy her stay at Hogwarts. Lengthened to the atypical twenty-nine days, February receded from the Gregorian calendar to herald in the milder spring months. Students exchanged sentimental Valentines and the cold melted away entirely, but Taylor chose to focus on her studies instead. The Avifors Spell soon became her favorite to cast, especially when tempted by procrastination. Jezebel, who watched Taylor intently, ruffled in irritation whenever her master conjured a hummingbird from a crumpled paper ball. Still sore about her grandmother's opal, the girl often kept the white raven locked away. She dreaded the idea of setting Jezebel free, without retrieving the precious gem first.

March arrived shortly after Gryffindor's victory over Hufflepuff in the recent Quidditch match. Morale was high throughout Gryffindor tower, completed with scarlet and gold banners strung about the common room in celebration. By the players' request, the extravagant decorations remained intact for the whole month; the streamers and pennant flags boosted house spirit and supported good humor amongst the students. Amidst the commotion of accomplishment and the daily academic grind, Remus took a holiday. The full moon heightened the week of the werewolf's birthday, which put a damper on Remus's plans. James, Sirius, and Peter noted his abrupt disappearance, but attributed it to his consistently ill mother. Unaware of their friend's true nature, the boys agreed to combine Remus's belated party with James's sub sequential celebration. As March quietly drew to a close, the Gryffindor common room was transformed into a boisterous den of revelry.

A frosty round of butterbeer was dispersed to an eager crowd of partygoers. Gryffindors of all years, crammed into the common room to clap James and Remus on the shoulder, supporting them with the best possible wishes. Fabian Prewett, along with his brother, Gideon, distributed cases of syrupy butterbeer, while simultaneously encouraging the escalating raucous. Although the boys were a few years older, the redheaded siblings embraced any occasion to carouse with their fellow students. Sirius took a seat on the floor next to Peter, who greedily guzzled his second bottle of butterscotch beer, while Remus and James watched the entertainment from the couch.

On a weekend visit to Hogsmeade, Gideon scored an enchanted top hat from a local bartender. Classical Victorian in model, the umber hat would continuously produce bottled butterbeer for anyone celebrating their birthday until the following morning. The Prewetts entrusted the high hat to James, so long as he promised pass it on to Gryffindor's next worthy first year. Through the course of the evening, James would dip his hand into the headpiece to retrieve an icy drink, similar to the way magicians procure rabbits for astounded audiences. Fabian, who was a year older than his third year brother, clasped his brother's shoulder affectionately. Nonchalantly, he checked his wristwatch and tapped it forlornly.

"We ought to be rounding up these shenanigans, don't you think?"

Gideon stretched and smiled with a sudden burst of energy. "Right! Can't be having all the little chicks up past midnight, especially after the ransacking incident. Fenwick would knock our heads in, if _that_ happened again." He clapped his hands and singlehandedly shepherded the groups up the spiral staircase to their dormitories.

Without complaint, the guests of honor followed the herd. James settled into his downy four poster bed. He placed the hat at a crooked angle on his head. Lying back in satisfaction, James noticed Sirius perched on the edge of a luggage trunk. His friend was intently tying his plain black shoelace into the perfect bow knot.

"Where are you going?" James inquired casually. The top hat upon his head dipped over his hazel eyes. Sirius snorted in reply, catching the attention of a concerned Remus and an oblivious Peter. "Come on mate, the Prewetts claimed this topper will shell out butterbeers until tomorrow's sunrise. What could be so important that you'd want to miss this miracle?" To exaggerate his point, James tipped the hat from his scalp, reached in dramatically, and pulled out a frosty bottle. He brandished it toward Sirius tauntingly. "I mean, I like them frothy warm better, but it would be straight complicated to pull a tankard from a top hat."

Amused by James's enthusiasm, Sirius hopped to his bedside. He grabbed the butterbeer from his friend's hand and took a swig. "I won't be gone long. I have an appointment in the Room of Runes."

"An appointment?" Remus sounded skeptical.

"I challenged that dodgy Slytherin to a duel." Sirius admitted under his breath. When Remus's faced whitened with protest, the boy quickly justified himself. "If any of _us_ had destroyed the Slytherin dormitory, we would have served at least two weeks of detention. It's about time I took justice into my own hands."

Remus threw his hands up defensively. "Hold on there, Zorro. You can't just go accusing random Slytherins of breaking into our secure dormitory." The other three boys looked up in confusion.

"Zorro?" Sirius quipped, feigning interest.

With exasperation, Remus rubbed his eyes. "Yes, Zorro. The early twentieth century vigilante, who avenges the helpless and punishes cruel politicians!" Both Sirius and James held back a laugh. Peter, seeing his chance to ascend the hierarchy, pointed his finger to the ceiling pretentiously.

"Oh, don't you mean Robin Hood?"

"No. Almost the same premise though." Remus looked toward his bookshelf in dismay. "Seriously, the three of you need to pick up a book."

Sensing his friend's discomfort, James coyly changed the subject. "Brilliant suggestion, Remus. The fact remains, that Sirius cannot duel Wilkes." He jumped up, pausing only to catch a stray empty bottle headed toward the floor. "At least not alone! The four of us should go. You can always tag me in as your second. I bet the Slytherin'll bring a couple of people along with him anyway."

Sirius hesitated. "If more people come along, than there is a greater chance of getting caught by prefects."

"I got just the cure for that." James bent over his trunk, tearing through its contents.

In the brief rest in conversation between James and Sirius, Remus voiced his position on the subject. "I hate to spoil any plans, but I am not going with you guys." The werewolf almost always refused to go on their missions, based on the principle that he did not want to test Dumbledore's patience. "And I think you should really reconsider—"

"Found it!" James whipped a sleek cloak from his luggage, the celestial designs shimmering like liquid silver. He draped it over his hands and presented it to Sirius. "An invisibility cloak. My father gave it to me during the holiday. It's some sort of family heirloom, but it'd be a waste to lock it away."

"You are a scoundrel." Sirius rushed over to touch it. His hands slid over the material effortlessly. "Try it on! Give it a test." Without hesitation, James wrapped it around himself. Instantly his figure disappeared from their view. "Cor, blimey!"

Peter clapped his hands in excitement and Sirius reached his arms around blindly. Concealed from their vision, James freely weaved around Sirius and toward Remus, who squinted dubiously. The invisible boy picked up Remus's bedside book and threw it toward Peter.

Clumsily, Peter caught the volume and tossed it in the air excitedly. "I am definitely coming with you two." James popped his head from the cloak and smiled. His cranium floated ominously.

"So what do you say, mate? Can we tag along to scare the little Slytherins?" The hovering head's pouting face caused Sirius to chuckle.

"Every Zorro needs his merry men, right? Let's show Wilkes that we aren't blokes to be messed with." Sirius smirked excitedly. The crossover of literature and his friends' rancorousness caused Remus to cringe internally.

* * *

Taylor saw the roaring green fire in the Slytherin common room as an invitation to catch up on her History of Magic reading. By eleven, all of the girls were tucked away in their beds, except for the single student who craved light to read by. In an attempt to be considerate, she chose to extinguish her wand and study elsewhere. The circular den was completely empty of students, except for herself; this was the environment she needed to avoid the demons of procrastination. Strewing her notes around the floor, Taylor leaned her back against a mahogany end table and read a chapter on Muggle witch hunts.

_Indeed, Wendelin the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that she allowed herself to be caught no less than forty-seven times in various disguises. More Muggle deaths were recorded during this time, with mortality rates speculated between 40,000 to 100,000. Small populations of magical folk were executed during both the North Berwick and Swedish Torsaker witch trials. Sub sequentially, no witch or wizard was killed during the infamous American Salem trials. _

Taylor placed a bookmark on the page. _Perhaps the dream is about a witch trial. It didn't seem like the soldiers were looking for magic though. _Her reflection was interrupted by the hurried thump of footsteps against stone. She peeked around the furniture cautiously. Fionn, wrapped tightly in a green cloak, hastened toward the dungeons exit. His brisk pace caused the girl some alarm, so she chose to speak out. 

"Where are you headed after hours?" Taylor joked. The Slytherin boy flinched at the sound of her voice, but halted at the doorway. Fionn refused to make eye contact, which made it difficult to observe his face. Instead, he stood awkwardly and adjusted his elegant necktie. "You've been acting strange lately. Why are you so distant? Is everything alright?"

Her inquisition threw him into a fit of hysterics. "So many questions! I should be able to go for an evening walk if I want to. Stop mothering me for once, I am perfectly fine. You'd think you'd have better things to do."

Affronted by his outburst, Taylor narrowed her eyes. She got to her feet, allowing the book to slide from her lap to the floor. Subduing her intrinsic rage, Taylor calmly pointed a threatening finger at the ground.

"Excuse me for showing a bit of concern for my fellow housemate! I was under the impression that we were friends, but if you're going to act this way I _will_ find better things to do!"

"You're going to wake the whole house with your squawking." The boy grumbled, but as Taylor moved toward the girl's dormitory he followed after her. "Wait, wait! I apologize." A boiling temper urged the girl to discard his apology or push him into the burning hearth. Turning toward him, however, her bitterness melted away. For the first time, she was able to look passed his stony stare at remorseful gunmetal blue irises. "I'm just really stressed and I've never been very good at opening up to people."

"You have to stop lashing out at me."

Fionn's face grew pink as he swallowed his aggression. "There are times where you make that difficult for me. As much as I would love to continue this riveting exchange of emotion, I have to go duel a repulsive Gryffindor."

Taylor blinked in surprise. "Sirius?"

"Other people know about this ridiculous affair?" Fionn felt for his wand under his cloak. "The louse will get what's coming for him—"

"Sirius will probably bring James. You could be outmatched." _They would jump him without any sort of chance. I can't let that happen._

"I can handle it." The boy reassured her. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Before she could think it through, Taylor offered her assistance. "I am coming with you." _I don't know the first rule of dueling. What are you saying? _Her reason was followed by Fionn's startled body language. He went to argue, but she held up her hand in retaliation. "I can't let you get blasted to a pulp or cursed with bogies. I am not cleaning up that mess. Besides, we are friends and friends help one another."

Fionn sighed, exasperated by the girl's determination. "You always have to have it your way don't you?"

"Forgive me for selfishly caring about my only friend in Slytherin." Taylor defiantly placed her books on the end table and waited for his retort. Fionn could not help but chuckle from the absurdity of his predicament. Never before had he met a girl as fiery as himself.

Assuming the role of a gentleman, he allowed her to go first through the door. As she passed him, however, he added coyly, "We share a book for a week in one class and somehow I am shackled to you for life." The Slytherin girl stuck out her tongue at him childishly and scooted through the passageway.

* * *

_I've never dueled before_._ What if I get smashed to pieces like my knight on Lily's chess set? What if wizard duels are violent and always end in extreme pain or death?_ Together, the two Slytherins lurked the castle corridors in search of the Room of Runes. Breaking curfew still charged Taylor with an intoxicating surge of electricity, although the sensation was slightly poisoned with the acrid aftertaste of January's detention. After a long flight of stairs, Fionn finally gestured to a plain oak door. _You would think that with a name like "The Room of Runes" that the door would have cryptic writing all over it. _

"That's it. It's not too late for you to go back to your books." _Take him up on that offer._

Anxiety twitched in her fingers. To mask her doubt she grabbed the door handle before Fionn could. "I am ready to meet my maker; whether my maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter." _Famous last words._ _If only I had Winston Churchill's true relentless passion! This is going to be interesting. _With both mental and physical exertion, Taylor pulled open the heavy door.

Once inside, the Slytherins marveled at the space's magnitude. Like many other rooms in the castle, the area was circular with high vaulted ceilings. There were, however, no windows; the only source of light emanated from eight dragon sconces etched into the beige marbled walls. Instead of slabs of granite, blue volcanic pebbles crunched under their feet. The gravel was intricately combed into swirls and spirals, and near the center of the room rested three colossal boulders. Sharp runes were engraved in corkscrew patterns along the massive stones. _An indoor Zen garden. Islands in a sea or maybe the peaks of mountains rising above the clouds. _ _I wonder what the runes say. Maybe at one time, this room was meant for peace or meditation. _Much to her disappointment, the moment of awe inspiring beauty was shattered by Sirius's arrogant tone.

"You brought _her_ as your second? A girl? Fighting a girl might actually go against my conscience." Sirius appeared from around a boulder, followed by James. Their feet destroyed the simple geometric beauty created by the raked lines. _I want to blast them already._

"Don't pretend like you have ethics, Black. I'll only jump in if James does." Taylor growled defensively. Fionn chose to remain silent, but his hand hovered over his wand instinctually.

Prepared for the challenge, Sirius held up his wand. "Well it can't get clearer than that, can it? Wands only, which means no physical contact." Reveling in the moment, the boy paused and leaned close to James. "We'll see if Salazar can keep her hands off me." He whispered, loud enough for both parties to hear. The hairs on the back of Taylor's neck bristled with irritation.

"On the count of three." Redirecting the confrontation, Fionn caught Sirius's attention. "One—"

Flamboyantly, Sirius drew up his arms in an arc and dipped a bow for his adversary; Fionn, however, only reciprocated with a terse nod of his head. The refusal to defer took Sirius by surprise and a flicker of resentment rippled across his face.

"Two—"

As the numbers rattled in the air ominously, James used his index finger to stroke his wand. He watched Taylor's movements intently, as she attempted to prepare a defensive spell. "Three."

"_Everte Statum_!" Orange light exploded from the tip of Fionn's wand toward Sirius. Reflexively, the young Gryffindor jumped out of harm's way, twisting around to return fire.

"_Impedimenta_!"

Prepared for the counterattack, Fionn blocked the green sparks by mumbling a weak defensive charm. Sirius's spell ricocheted away from its target and at James, who barely escaped in a spray of gravel. Concerned for his comrade, Sirius took a moment to observe James through his peripherals before blasting another jet of sparks at Fionn. The incantation marginally surpassed the Slytherin boy's left ear.

In the mayhem, Taylor's arsenal of spells disintegrated into an inconvenient oblivion. _Should I jump in? I can't think of any offensive spells! _ For a brief interval, she watched the exchange. Taylor was mesmerized by Fionn's swift gallant counterassault, complete with faultless composure. In a matter of seconds, however, the possibility of victory crumbled. An unexpected beam of cerulean collided with Fionn's right shoulder, veering him backward into a wall. The boy's cherry wood wand shot to the center of the room and bounced off a scripted stone.

Spurred into sudden action, Taylor aimed at James and shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!"

James's mahogany sprig violently jerked from his hand and skittered across the room. Swearing at the top of his lungs, he hastily dove after it. Blinded by hubris in the heat of battle, Taylor neglected to follow up on her second opponent. Mercilessly, Sirius rounded on the inexperienced witch, who was not quick enough to evade his scarlet blast. She was catapulted toward the ceiling. As she fell toward the ground, her stomach quivered, unnaturally snuggling against the lungs and heart. James retrieved his wand and attentively pointed it at Fionn, who was within reach of his own magical armament.

"_Tarantallegra_!" James bellowed. Fionn's legs began to dance uncontrollably; a marionette puppeted to perform a solo samba. Taylor struggled to her feet, but halted when she noticed the tip of Sirius's wand in her face.

"Don't move Salazar. Drop your wan—"

"You cheated!" Taylor's voice caught in her throat. "There is someone hiding in here. I know it!"

"Don't be paranoid." Sirius teased, mocking Taylor's tone from the previous day. Forced to dance provocatively, Fionn reluctantly unfastened his necktie and threw it at Jame's feet. The crunch of gravel from Fionn's servile shoes and her captor's leering smirk triggered Taylor's headstrong retaliation. _I don't have to follow his rules. A fight is a fight._ Defiant of his unwavering wand, she glared up at him. Taylor lurched forward, knocking Sirius to the ground.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" Sirius's body stiffened instantly.

Without a second thought, Taylor jumped over Sirius and tackled James to the floor. Fionn regained control over his legs. He grabbed Taylor by the shoulders, pulling her off the baffled Gryffindor boy. Filled with adrenaline, the girl reached down to retrieve her friend's tie. Fionn pushed her toward the exit and together the pair fled from the room for the sanctuary of the Slytherin dungeons. James groaned in pain. As he sat up, he rubbed his side and hobbled over to Sirius, waving his wand to undo the hex. Peter materialized from underneath the invisibility cloak, his forehead sweaty with the thrill of battle.

"How'd I do?"

"You could have been a tad bit more involved at the end, when that tart was petrifying me!" Sirius snapped sourly. Peter recoiled and looked at James for praise.

"I was distracted. That Slytherin git was really dancing. It was hilarious stuff, James." Honored by Peter's flattery, James puffed up proudly.

"Don't feel bad, mate." James nudged Sirius optimistically. "You were ace. They both ran for their mothers. Besides, this may cheer you up." He held up a springy holly wand. "When she tackled me, Taylor dropped her wand. Jabbed me in the gut when we collided, but I suppose it was worth it. Shall we celebrate with a round of butterbeer?"

Sirius's spirits lifted, as he snatched the wand from his friend's hand. "James, you never cease to impress me." A rush of cold wind extinguished several of the fiery sconces.

* * *

A refreshing wave of relief comforted both Taylor and Fionn, as they stepped through the stone wall and into the Slytherin sanctuary. The green fire and plush sofa cushions had never felt so inviting. _That was a headache. I thought my days of tackling boys were over. _The girl walked to her unbothered textbooks and then turned back to observe her friend. _I bet Fionn feels terrible. What was I thinking? _

"Sorry I wasn't much help back there." She apologized. Fionn waved her apology away. Much to her surprise, the Slytherin boy was smiling.

"I only went to save face. In my opinion, losing is better than cheating. Some people don't know fair sport." The tired boy gestured to the ceiling. "Thank you for grabbing my tie last minute. I wouldn't have wanted Black's sticky fingers to take it as a replacement trophy."

_Replacement trophy? That's odd. Does he know about Sirius's abducted stolen stash? _Mindlessly, Taylor reached into her robes to retrieve Fionn's green and silver necktie._ Maybe I am thinking too much into it— _An oppressive feeling swept over the girl. Blood drained from her face, as Taylor began to pat herself down vigorously.

"Did you drop it? It's not an issue, Taylor. Really, I can always buy another." Shaking her head, Taylor pulled his tie out and handed it to him. After allowing the tie to exchange hands, she moved for the exit. Surprised by his friend's alarming attitude shift, he followed in the wake of the fleeing presence. "Where are you—?"

"I must have dropped my wand in the Room of Runes. I need to find it before Sirius and James do."

"I'm coming along." Running to keep up, Fionn added, "Don't worry, Taylor. If they have your wand, I'll make them regret it. They will be vomiting newts and earthworms until their tongues fall out." _That's a generous offer._

Retracing their steps, the pair navigated the halls toward the Room of Runes once again. As they approached, an eerie howl reverberated off the stone walls. The hairs on Taylor's arm bristled and the air became colder. _Sir Henry Baskerville must have had nausea when he crossed that foggy moor in the dead of night. Without a wand, I am sickeningly helpless. _

"Just stay behind me." Fionn pried open the heavy door and peered in hesitantly. Without an explanation, he closed it quickly.

"What?" Taylor asked. When he did not reply, she moved to open the door. He grabbed the handle protectively.

"I think we should get out of here while we can."

Taylor studied him for a moment. _Something's not right. _She inserted herself between him and the door, nudging him away from the entrance. Battling him physically, she threw open the door. A thick fog engulfed the dark room, covering a swarm of forty Gytrash. The only available light source came from the glowing mist and flashes of scarlet and blue. Streams of sparks shot through the haze, as Sirius, James, and Peter sent curses at the bloodthirsty canines. Despite its transparent frame, a hefty hellhound pounced on James, who fell to the floor with a thud. Terrified, Peter screamed every jinx that came to mind.

"F-flip-f-flipendo!" Peter wavered. "Bloody F-flipendo!"

"A little help here!" James shouted, straining his voice. The jaws of the animal were uncomfortably close to his face. Sirius tried to escape the circle of beasts around him, but they tightened the gaps and snapped at his calves.

Dismayed by the boys' struggle, Taylor took a step into the room. A violent force pulled her backward. She stumbled against Fionn, who held onto the girl firmly. Giving the door a firm kick, he slammed it shut before the Gytrash noticed their arrival.

"We can't just leave them! They'll be ripped apart, maybe even killed." She struggled against him. "We know how to fend them off!"

"They'd be getting what they deserve." Fionn responded darkly. "Think of all the violence and trouble they've caused for innocent people. Besides, they aren't like us, Taylor. They might as well be blood traitors." _He's serious. However deserving they may be, leaving them would be a heartless act. I can't live with that guilt_. Using her aggression to her advantage, she gave Fionn's foot a heavy stomp. He dropped her and recoiled into a fit of swearwords. Wandless, Taylor turned away from him, rushed passed the door, and into the pack of spectral hounds. Surprised by the sudden aid, Peter and Sirius paused to watch Taylor's ambush. Several Gytrash perked up their ears and converged on the fresh target.

"Use _Lumos_!" Arms waving wildly, Taylor ran toward the center of the room.

Heaving at the chest, three rabid beasts galloped after the lively Slytherin girl. _I shouldn't have jumped into this mess without a wand. _Pebbles shifted rhythmically underfoot, as Taylor darted for the central rock formation. A sharp twist in her ankle caused the girl to fall into a spray gravel. Within seconds, a cumbersome weight crashed down onto Taylor's spine.

"Someone use _Lumos_!" She called out desperately.

Across the room, jagged fangs tore into James's shoulder, grazing his clavicle. Despite the pain, he pointed his wand at the hellhound's snout and through clenched teeth conjured a stream of white light. The Gytrash on top of him, along with several nearby, withdrew with a shudder. The largest of the pack snarled fiercely at James, who held a steady gaze with the menacing creature. Blood dripped from the boy's arm to the floor, but he valiantly continued to ward off the ghostly canines on his way to help Taylor.

The Slytherin girl covered the back of her neck with shaking hands, as the Gytrash's teeth tore at her knuckles. Peter squealed deafeningly as two hounds shredded the lower portion of his cloak. Sputtering from fear and frustration, the mousy Gryffindor boy could not muster the incantation needed to fend off the brutes. Distracted by his ally's shriek, James lost concentration, causing his wand to darken. The creatures converged on him again, taking advantage of the momentary weakness. Following James's lead, Sirius lit his wand, thrusting through the crowd of ruthless Gytrash toward Peter. Noting Taylor's predicament, he reached into his inner coat pocket to retrieve her wand.

"Taylor! Your wand!" With his extra hand, Sirius chucked the holly wand through the air toward the girl.

Turning toward the sound of his voice, Taylor saw the wand land just within an arm's distance. Daringly, she reached for the weapon. Unexpectedly, her wrist was intercepted by another spectral dog. Trying to pull back her hand, Taylor yelped as the creature ripped into her exposed skin. From the door, Fionn rushed to Taylor's side, blasting the converging animals with radiant white phosphorescence. Through the pain, the Slytherin girl grabbed her wand and blinded another impending assailant.

With the exception of Peter, all wands were illuminated with blazing flares. The pack of creatures circled the group, attempting to find a weak point. The fog diluted as the students began to huddle together. Taylor limped close to Fionn, her wand stretched out toward the flickering specters. In order to move faster, Fionn wrapped Taylor's arm over his shoulder and hurried toward the exit. James and Sirius shepherded Peter toward the Slytherins. A frustrated howl echoed into the hallway, but the Gytrash did not follow the group. The beams of candlelight were powerful enough to deter the shadow thriving monsters. One by one, the Gytrash dissipated into the mist. Without an exchange of words, the group hurried to the Grand Staircase. As Taylor and Fionn descended toward the dungeons, Sirius called after them.

"Hey, thanks for your help back there. I never would have thought to use _Lumos_." He talked passed Fionn and to Taylor. The Slytherin boy ignored this; he was too busy watching for prefects and professors.

"Yeah. Sometimes it's the unlikeliest of spells, right?" Taylor saw the Gryffindor's sincerity and for once did not detest him. "Thanks for giving my wand back." Sirius coughed back a laugh.

James held a hand over the gushing wound in his shoulder. "I hate to be the whiner, but this hurts something awful. I just want to go have a butterbeer."

"The Prewetts may have a trick for that." Sirius sized up Taylor's blood-splattered hands. "What about you? Are you going to be alright? We could get you some help."

Impatiently, Fionn walked down a few steps, trusting that his friend would not fall into the Gryffindor boy's sympathetic offer. Absentmindedly, Taylor waved away Sirius's concern.

"I'll be fine." She turned to follow after Fionn, leaving the Gryffindors behind to tend to their wounds.

Silently, the pair made the descent down winding stairs toward the inviting security of the Hogwarts dungeons. Occasionally, Taylor thought she could hear the low throaty rumble of canine vocals. The girl grasped her wand tightly, comforted by Fionn's company. His companionship, however, was tainted by a singularly sinister aspect_. If Fionn agreed with what Regulus said about blood traitors and muggleborns at the Winter Solstice masquerade, does that mean he believes he's better than others? Would he really have let the Gytrash kill those boys, just because they make him angry? If I am not careful, he could see me as his enemy also. _Questions churned in her entrails. _What if Sirius is right? Maybe Fionn is helping Professor Greer. Perhaps they summoned the Gytrash together to hurt the muggleborns or blood traitors. _Safely inside the common room, Fionn headed straight for the boys' dormitory without sparing another moment for his comrade in arms.


	19. Chapter 19: A Necromancer's Intention

Chapter 19

Medieval dueling, ravenous hellhounds, and misty corridors were much more enjoyable for Taylor when elegantly described upon a page. For the first time, however, the girl sorted through her book collection with apathy. Experiencing mysticism directly had dampened the thrill of the written word. Nevertheless, she organized her personal library before heading to the weekly scheduled flight lesson. Taylor hoped that by arranging the texts alphabetically, she would systematically adhere to a stricter study routine during the Easter holiday. As soon as Madam Hooch dismissed the class, the holiday could begin and the clamor to finish the heaping mound of assignments would commence.

Balanced on the trustworthy Tinderblast, the Slytherin girl quietly observed that Fionn was absent from the obstacle course lineup that day. Similarly, she had noted her friend's disappearance in Transfiguration, Herbology, and Potions as well. Much to Taylor's disappointment, the pair had not talked since the night of the duel, which illuminated her imagination with absurdly suspicious scenarios. Fionn's observable absence continued through the course of the weeklong Easter holiday. Nowhere to be seen, Taylor finally chose to assume the boy had left early to visit family.

Unlike the Christmas holiday, Taylor chose to sequester herself away in the cloisters of the Slytherin dungeons. Focusing on last month's lessons, the girl took the time to organize a carefully planned schedule. June exams were quickly approaching and professors pressured their students to study accordingly. Professor Greer, in particular, added additional assignments to the already lengthy workload. The brief Easter holiday allowed Taylor to study, unperturbed by the temptation of procrastination. Even Remus chose to remain at Hogwarts in order to concentrate on the impending onslaught of exams.

Taylor only emerged from her study sessions for meals or to check out the occasional library book. For the sake of sanity, the studious Slytherin allowed herself a few hours of freedom. Positive about the most recent spell work, Taylor indulged in an outdoor lunch with Lily near the lake. The young Gryffindor thumbed through her notes lazily; parchment papers strewn about her like a makeshift nest. The growth patterns of fungi and rays of sunshine lulled Lily into passive lethargy. Remorseless, she laid on the ground to stare at the cloudless blue sky. Notes crinkled underneath her in protest.

"I can't believe spring was so late this year. It's so refreshing to finally be able to enjoy the weather."

A breeze kicked up Taylor's paperwork, causing her to lose concentration. Despite the wind's good humor, she pinned down the escaping _Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood_ pamphlet. "Too bad I've been locked away inside for most of the holiday." In an attempt to absorb the knowledge through osmosis, Lily pressed the Transfiguration textbook against her cheek.

"We could have been doing this all week long! You are the one who chose to be a hermit."

"I would have gotten distracted…" Taylor explained halfheartedly. The Slytherin's voice tapered off into a laugh when she noticed Lily was completely engrossed in a nearby dandelion. _And apparently you would have been distracted by the weeds._ "I am nearly done anyway. There's not much more I can prepare for, except pronunciation."

Eyes closed tightly, Lily took a deep breath and blew dandelion seeds into the gentle wind. As they disappeared into the stratosphere, the playfulness within the young Gryffindor faded. "The muggle post reported that Lord Widgery will probably exonerate the British troops of all blame for the Bloody Sunday shootings back in January. Isn't that just criminal? Protesters shouldn't just be shot down like that." _I don't know much about current events. It seems like every time I look at the news, there is a fresh disaster. "_May I ask you a question?"

Expecting a philosophical discussion to ensue, Taylor braced herself. "Sure."

"When are you going to let that white raven go?"

The question came unexpectedly. In Lily's mind, the prospects of an Irish injustice had somehow correlated to Jezebel's lack of freedom. At a loss for words, Taylor tripped over an answer. Since January, she had purposely pushed the situation out of consideration. Every morning, the girl hoped, unrealistically, that the opal would reappear at the bottom of Jezebel's cage. No harm to the bird or her ancestral procession. Sensing her friend's discomfort, Lily continued.

"You can't possibly believe that retrieving the stone is still a possibility?" _Anything could happen._ "It's been gone for nearly four months. Maybe it's about time that you let it go. Jezebel is only a wild animal after all. "

"I am not ready to just let my opal fly away." Taylor snorted darkly. _I'd sooner disembowel the bloody bird!_

"Keeping her caged won't bring you any sort of satisfaction. I know you better than that." Assessing Lily's advice, Taylor rubbed the back of her neck in contemplation. With a heavy sigh, she settled down arm-to-arm with the logical Gryffindor.

"I just need time to think, that's all. I'll do it eventually."

"Just remember, Taylor, the time is always right to do the right thing." Stretching out on the grass, Lily smiled at her friend to lighten the mood. After a short silence, she began to trace the cloudy heavens. "Can we plan on one last study session tomorrow? I promise not to be as distracting in the library."

* * *

Haunted by nightmares and internal guilt, Taylor's mind fought the confines of sleep. For hours, she reclined in bed. The dark ceiling hosted a brilliant revelry of capering shadows and streams of aquatic reflection. The girls in the dormitory snoozed in a rhythmic harmony. In the past, the simple symphonic phantasmagoria would have delighted her imagination. Overwhelming thoughts, however, plagued the young Slytherin girl's mind. The unmistakable silhouette of Jezebel's figure was clean and crisp against the flagstone wall. Uncomfortable ideas urged Taylor's eyes to return to the ceiling.

_Whatever happened to a peaceful night's sleep? _Sinister thoughts skirted into the fissures of the girl's brain. _What if Fionn really is an unapologetic bigot with plans to hurt others? What if my nightmares never go away? What if there are corpselike creatures beyond the walls of this room? What if I never see my father again? What if I do see my father again, but have to tell him that my grandmother's pendant was eaten by a bird? _Wide and worried, her pupils shifted back toward the motionless cage; the ivory thief slumbered peacefully inside.

_Lily is right. Jezebel doesn't deserve to be caged up forever. She couldn't have known the opal was important to me. _The silver chain, curled and tangled, remained empty upon the nightstand. _Could she? _Taylor rolled to the edge of the bed and struggled to sit up. For a few moments, she stared at the empty necklace in recollection. _Keep it safe for me. How unfair is it to ask a child to keep a precious stone safe for nearly six years?_ Careful not to rattle Jezebel's cage and wake the dreamers in the room, Taylor grasped the silver chain. It weaved naturally through her nimble fingers like liquid argent. _All the nights it soothed my worries. It saved me from a werewolf. What will I do without it?_ Involuntarily, her feet met the floor. _I could easily get the stone back. _

A malignant idea echoed throughout Taylor's mind, spreading cancerously. _What is stopping me?_ _I could_ _just rip the bird open and take the stone back. Maybe even magically. I should have done that in the beginning. _However natural it seemed, the bloodlust caught Taylor off guard. Never before had she seriously considered killing another living creature in order to get what she wanted. Even Daniel Babio, who antagonized her years at the orphanage, deserved to live his life to the fullest. _It is just a stupid bird though. The pendant means more than its life. Queen Jezebel was thrown out a window and ripped apart by stray dogs. It would go along with the storyline._

Instinctually, Taylor's hands connected with the latch on the coop. She licked her lips in anticipation. Unaware of the brewing danger, the raven continued to sleep. Its beak nestled gently within the mantle of its left wing.

For a moment, Taylor stood in reflection. _It is bad luck to kill a raven. _The vehemence in her chest berated her superstitious beliefs. _This raven has been nothing but bad luck since I have saved it. I'm taking back my happiness and my luck. _

The hinges on the cage groaned in disappointment, as the girl opened the door and reached in quietly. Before her fingers grazed a single feather, a flicker of realization overpowered the repressed animosity clouding Taylor's perception. _What are you doing? The opal is only a rock. This is a living creature with a life. _With a shaking hand, she pulled away and locked the hatchway. _It's been gone for nearly four months._ With her face in her hands, the girl sat down on the edge of the bed. _Lily was right. That's not me. The time is always right to do the right thing._ Laying back down, Taylor closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

* * *

Screeching metal clanked reluctantly against embittered flagstone. Motivated by the previous night's downward spiral, Taylor woke up early to set Jezebel free. Clumsily, the Slytherin waddled up a dungeon stairwell, bird and cage tightly in hand. With both physical and mental effort, the young girl lugged the bird through a maze of corridors and stairs. Accustomed to Taylor's temperamental behavior, but confused by the change in scenery, Jezebel crowed in defiance. The raven beat its wings against the prison walls, which caused the metal enclosure to sway uncontrollably at times. Forgotten feathers swirled through the air, littering the corridors in their wake. Painted characters lining the walls, called out from their portraits.

"It's really too early for all this squawking."

"Be considerate, will you?"

"That poor bird! Looks like the girl is eating crow."

_I think I liked it better when paintings couldn't speak. _Ignoring their shrill condemnations, Taylor pulled the coop passed the final few steps, through the Entrance Hall, and into the adjacent courtyard. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she placed the raven's cage on the short fountain wall and kneeled to examine the uneasy animal inside.

"This is it then." Like yesterday, the sky was clear and the breeze welcoming. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and the morning dew glistened in an approaching orange light.  
"I'm going to let you go." Deep inside, Taylor felt foolish for speaking to an animal that could not respond. The words, however minimal, made the situation easier.

Slowly, Taylor lifted the latch and opened the door. The invitation was open. With newfound frenzy, Jezebel clambered toward the exit. With a wandering eye, the bird search for danger before departing the safety of the roost.

"For what it's worth, you are pretty to look at— but I don't think I will ever adopt another raven." Feathers ruffled, Jezebel climbed to the peak of the silver cage and spread her wings.

With a single push, the bird jumped into the air, tucking her legs closely beneath a fan of tail feathers. Jezebel circled the courtyard once, before gaining altitude and disappearing beyond the canopy of the Forbidden Forest. Patiently, Taylor waited to see if her avian ward would return. An hour passed, along with the aftermath of the orange glow. Impractically, she hoped a reward would fall from the sky into her lap. The celestial heavens refused to acknowledge the personal sacrifice.

_It's gone forever. _Dejected by the anticlimactic event, the Slytherin chose to leave the cage on the fountain wall. _That's one less affair I need to worry about now. Gytrash and exams are the only two problems I have to work on. _Lacking an appetite, Taylor skipped breakfast and wandered the corridors of the castle aimlessly. _Lily should be awake by now. She will be happy to hear about this morning's liberation. _Choosing to uphold her rendezvous with Lily, Taylor began trekking up to the third floor library.

_This year has gone by so fast. In a few months, I will be back with the Lupins. Remus and I will check out Mr. Katskinsky's old general store for details; I will write to Lily and send her packages; I won't have to worry about schoolwork. _Involuntarily, Taylor sidestepped a metal heating grate. A rumbling below caught her attention. A faint, familiar voice caused her throat to tighten. Muffled conversation floated up from the air vent; possibly one of the many secret passages between the walls of the castle. Breathlessly, Taylor kneeled to the ground. In order to look less conspicuous, she pretended to double knot her shoelaces. Sparse students meandered around her, continuing to enjoy their final day of vacation. For a moment, the hole was silent and she convinced herself the noises were imagined. Cocking her head to the side, Taylor tried to funnel the sound from below.

"But sir, what if she _doesn't_ know where to find it?" Fionn's voice wavered between octaves.

_Why is Fionn—_

"It's the only chance we have." Professor Greer's voice replied. The stifled scuffling of shoes against granite trailed between his words, making the conversation difficult to discern. Deep scraping noised distorted his already quiet sentences. "—the hyoid. A few questions about the Faberge, she will die, and then we can worry about the remains."

Taylor's stomach mimicked the knots in her shoelaces. _Hyoid? Like a hyoid bone._ _Someone is going to die?_ Vomit riled in the back of her mouth. _I didn't hear that. I misheard. _

"—this could easily become a mess. I need you to concentrate Mr. Wilkes. You may be brilliant boy, but so help you if there is a single error. If we do not succeed, the wizarding world will run rampant with irrepressible filth."

"I understand, sir." The pupil reassured the professor. _Irrepressible filth. Does he mean dirty blood? Like when Regulus called muggleborns, mudbloods? _The conversation melded into a series of inaudible clanging. Afraid that the pair would notice her eavesdropping, Taylor hurried down the corridor. In the haste, she nearly collided with a suit of armor. _Professor Greer really is the necromancer, and he is going to do something terrible to the muggleborns. _

Mind riling, Taylor rushed into the sanctuary of the library. Tens of thousands of books on thousands of shelves greeted the distressed student. Several areas were sectioned off for quiet study. Lily's bright red hair was easy to locate amid the dusty books and table lanterns. Streams of dusty sunlight guided Taylor's course to her friend. _How can I tell Lily that Fionn and an esteemed Hogwarts professor are contriving a plan that could potentially hurt her? She may not even believe me. She didn't when I suggested Professor Greer as the necromancer. _As she sat across from her friend, the Slytherin battled the internal conflict.

"Took you long enough." Lily chided playfully. Taylor opened her mouth to spill the details, but only a squeak ebbed out. _Lily, Professor Greer is behind the Gytrash. Fionn is helping him. They want to eradicate muggleborns from the wizarding world._ Lily raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Have you been hexed?"

Taylor gingerly placed her head on the tabletop. "No." _No one is going to believe me. Professor Greer wouldn't have been hired by Albus Dumbledore if he was capable of such malevolence. Right?_ "Please talk to me about something light and unimportant." Confused by her friend's drastic level of stress, Lily folded her hands and leaned back.

"Black approached me today in a peculiar manner." Without lifting her head, Taylor motioned for Lily to continue. "I was sitting here alone, waiting for you, when he decided to sit next to me. Though, it may as well have been on my lap." Lily grimaced at the imagery. "He kept bothering me with some endless chatter, until I conceded to his request."

"What was his request?"

"The boy wanted me to ask the librarian if they had any books on some Zorro character."

The smothering concern ebbed away momentarily. "That's odd." Taylor lifted her head in curiosity.

"Right? Who knew he could read?"

"No. That's one of Remus's favorite stories. I gave him a copy of _The Mask of Zorro_ for his birthday. Why wouldn't he just borrow my brother's copy? Do they even have muggle fiction here?"

"The bloke has a screw loose." Lily muttered. After a brief quiet, the Gryffindor looked out the window. "You let Jezebel go. Is that why you seem so upset?" _This morning is already ages away. In recent light, letting Jezebel go was easy. _Unsure of how to proceed, Taylor merely nodded. "You did the right thing. Trust me." Wand in hand, Lily motioned to their Charms textbook. "Let's get started with this studying business, and then after you can tell me all about it."

_The right thing to do would be to tell the headmaster about Greer. Fionn would go down with him though. Can I betray my friend? Are we even friends anymore? This madman could end up hurting innocent people— But then why am I doubting myself?_

* * *

Casually, Sirius followed Lily and Taylor out of the library. After spending all day hidden behind a bookshelf, the boy was eager to be on the move again. While enjoying his hefty breakfast of steak and eggs earlier that morning, he noticed Lily sorting through her books nearby. Mundane academic tasks rarely sparked Sirius's imagination, however, a particular title caught his unmitigated attention: _Canidae: From Ahuizotl to Wepwawet._ Both his mind and fingers twitched with inquisitiveness. The scholarly witch had some knowledge or research on the ghostly dogs that had attacked him and his friends.

Instead of asking outright, Sirius trailed after her. Once Lily was settled in the library, he convinced her to ask the librarian to procure a muggle title. Predictably, they did not carry the edition he was searching for. Fortunately, when the unsuspecting Gryffindor girl approached the help desk, Sirius slipped into her bag and borrowed a more riveting publication. For Lily's benefit, he feigned disappointment for not obtaining _The Mask of Zorro_, but retreated to a nearby aisle to examine the contents of his pinched article. The folded page made it easy for the troublemaker to brush up on facts about Gytrash. During intervals of tedious text, Sirius observed the studious Gryffindor girl for signs that she may have noticed the item was missing. When Taylor arrived, a burning desire to discuss the hellhounds and their origin flourished within him. Treading with light footsteps, he followed the girls; a grin plastered across his face as a plan came together.

* * *

"Hold on. I nearly forgot to return your History of Magic notes." Lily pulled her knapsack to the front of her and sifted through the contents. The girl's face grew pink with frustration even as Taylor assured her that the notes were not very important. "No, I have your notes. I think I left _Canidae_ in the library. I knew my bag felt too light." Lily thrust the notes under Taylor's nose, who took them gingerly. "I have to go back for it. I'll see you in class tomorrow?"

"Sure thing." Taylor's fake smile faded as her friend disappeared into ascending banisters. The weight of the wizarding world felt heavier with each lonely step she took toward the dungeons. Once Sirius was sure Lily was beyond earshot, he called out to the departing Slytherin.

"Salazar! I need to have a word with you."

Slightly irritated by the nickname, Taylor slowly turned to face her nemesis. One generous act was not enough to erase the countless misdeeds Sirius had performed in the past. Her distaste for his voice lingered. The haughty Gryffindor boy jumped a fake step and landed in front of her, flaring his arms out dramatically.

"Not if you are going to start with that opening degradation."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Salazar was a fine man. You should feel honored."

"Yes, he was a _man_. If you haven't noticed, I am a girl and I do have a name."

Amused by her statement, they boy gestured to her clothes. The grin on his face seemed permanent. "To be fair, I will have to take your word for it that you are a girl. As for your name, you never formally introduced yourself to me. Why should I cater to your desires if you can't afford me the simple respect I ask for?"

Momentarily dazzled by his irrefutable logic and quick wit, Taylor turned away and continued down the stairs. "You don't deserve my respect with the way you are always—"

"Let's not get into this now. I wanted to talk to you about something much more important." Through her peripherals, Taylor studied him. She refused to allow him any direct attention. "Those dogs that attacked us are called Gytrash, aren't they? I found them in this book." Ounces of blood drained from Taylor's face. Sirius held up Lily's missing book proudly. "According to this, they can only be summoned by a necromancer. Judging by the look on your face, this isn't news to you."

"You dirty thief. I cannot believe you stole Lily's book!"

"Stop focusing on me for one second, won't you? This is why Greer was so adamant about getting that bone back. He had Fionn search through our dormitories, so he could summon these hellhounds. He's a dodgy old nutter." Taylor grabbed the book from him and held it under her arm.

"The first time I saw the Gytrash was over the winter holiday."

"I stole that bone just before the break. I am telling you the two are connected. Greer is out to get his students." _Or the muggleborns. _The story was solid. Taylor's heart searched for a reason to believe otherwise. _Why are all of these problems revealed to me? I can't fix any of this, especially not with Sirius breathing down my neck._ Exasperated by the silence and accelerated pace, Sirius quickened his step to match her tempo. "The man is a maniac and no one believes me. Greer is going to seriously hurt someone and the only reason you won't agree with me is because of some stupid loyalty to that posh—"

"Don't start." The warning was laced with a venomous tone.

"Why defend Wilkes? He's obviously up to something. Do you choose to be blind or are you really that dense?"

Pushing aside the doubts in her mind, Taylor voiced the various rationalizations that had been gnawing away at her since she heard Fionn's voice from the grate. "I don't know! We seem to be friends and I take that seriously. Seemingly, he's always had good intentions and he hasn't abandoned me yet. Fionn's saved me on countless occasions—from falling off a broom, from your sick brother, from being alone, from you— He would never do anything to hurt me." The reasons spilled from her tongue and dribbled onto the floor.

"My family has my best intentions at heart, but they support some horrible stuff." Sirius's voice sounded hollow, as if he did not completely trust the words spoken. "Listen, I know we got off the wrong foot. I am coming to you, because you're smart. Let's face it, we are in this together. We were all attacked and our possessions were sifted through. Maybe we can put the differences behind us and find a solution to the hellhounds?"

The concept of an armistice with Sirius sounded appealing. More tempting was the idea of being able to voice her doubts with another human being. With a heavy sigh, Taylor opened her mouth to concede, but hesitated when she noticed Fionn on the ground floor talking to displeased looking Regulus. _I am not a hero, I am just a normal student trying to get work done._ Taylor leaned in close to Sirius, making sure not to break eye contact.

"No. Here's how it is going to happen, Black. I don't want anything to do with you. In fact, I think you are blowing everything way out of proportion. I believe that you are trying to cause drama between me and the only Slytherin friend I have. How can you expect me to trust you, when all you do is cause trouble? Thanks for your offer, but I don't need you in my life to feel secure about where my loyalties lie." Without another word, she walked passed him and down to the Entrance Hall. Sirius did not follow, but his final promised stuck with her eardrums.

"I will prove that Greer and Fionn are no good, with or without your help." Taylor refused to look back at the Gryffindor, in fear that she might change her mind. A hidden burst of energy ushered her passed Fionn and Regulus, through the empty Slytherin common room, and into her four poster bed. Despite the early hour, she pulled the comforter over her head. For the first time in months, Taylor drifted off to sleep, but did not have the usual nightmare.


End file.
